Season 1, Ep 5: Poisoned Past Breakdown Pt 2
by AngelHoffman
Summary: Angel begins chemo; her relationships with Foreman and House intensify, with unexpected twists; the mysteries from her past come to light with tragic consequences.  Dedicated in Memory of my Grandma
1. Chapter 1

Chemo, First Cycle, November

Wilson held Angel's hand as they walked into the chemotherapy ward. He signed her in, had her seated. Wilson inserted her IV, since this was her first time; a nurse would handle it in the future. Angel quietly looked around at the men, women and children in the room, all in various stages of their treatment. She wished she could wipe the frightened doe-eyed look off her face but she couldn't help trembling.

Foreman walked in with her ginger ale a moment later and kissed her cheek. He grabbed a chair next to her as they waited for the nurse to come with the bag of meds.

From across the room, Angel heard a little girl squeal "Dr. Wilson!" A tiny slip of a girl grabbed onto his legs until he knelt down and hugged her. Though the child was completely bald—without even so much as eyebrows or eyelashes—she glowed like a lightning bug with a wide smile. She turned and gazed at Angel with curiosity. "Hi, I'm Anna. You're new."

Angel sucked in her breath for a moment…what were the odds…."I'm Angel, nice to meet you. It's my first time." Anna nodded somberly.

"Thought so. You still have all your hair. Hey hang on a minute!" And she dashed off, making Wilson chuckle.

"She's a spitfire, isn't she?" He wore a deep smile but she could also see the sadness in his eyes.

A moment later, she was back with a sparkly angel sticker that she gently patted onto Angel's shirt. "Hey, that's neat, thank you Anna! I'll get some stickers and we'll trade," Angel said with affection. Her smile faded when the nurse came with the bag. Solemnly, Anna came up to her and took her hand. Angel felt the cool softness of the tiny hand in hers.

"Sometimes it hurts for a minute. It's ok if you cry. I do sometimes," Anna said, far more mature than the 8 or so years Angel guessed her to be. And sure enough, it burned, like someone was injecting acid into her vein. Angel closed her eyes and a tear slipped out. Anna kept patting her hand.

Angel took a deep breath and then smiled at her new friend. "So, what do you have? I have Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I've had it since I was 4."

"I have multiple myeloma. It's like leukemia. I just found out I have it." Anna nodded, and then heard her name called.

"I have to go get my treatment. I'm glad we're friends Angel," she said, standing on tiptoes to give Angel a kiss on the cheek. "Bye, see you tomorrow!" She bounced over to her aide.

Wilson focused on Angel. "How are you feeling?"

"A little odd, kind of hot and cold and nauseous," Angel admitted, not even mentioning how badly her arm hurt. Wilson added zofran to her mix which helped a bit.

"Hey, did I miss one of my employees getting poisoned today?" Angel looked up with a nauseous smile to see House grinning down at her. He sat in a chair next to Foreman.

"You're just in time. Want some in your coffee?" Angel joked back.

"Nah, I'm good. I think Taub already put some in." He glared down at the liquid in his red mug. "You?" His tone was joking but his eyes were serious. Concerned.

Angel shrugged. She kept taking small sips of the ginger ale. "Not so much." She tried to put on a brave smile for House. He glanced at the bag.

"They have you on the high octane stuff. Your arm hurt?" Angel slowly nodded. House caught Wilson as he walked by. He grabbed another syringe of something and injected it, making the pain tolerable.

"Angel if something hurts or you feel sick, let someone know. We might not be able to do anything but you've got to speak up." Wilson gently brushed her cheek. She nodded meekly.

"Um, that sick thing…" Angel said, feeling like her skin was being scorched. House grabbed a basin and held it while Angel threw up multiple times. Foreman rubbed her back then got a cool cloth for her face and neck. House handed the basin to a passing nurse. "Sorry House." She looked mortified.

"It's ok. At least you didn't throw up on me. Better?" House touched her hand. She nodded.

"I thought I wouldn't get sick until next week," Angel said, looking a bit panicked.

"Everyone responds differently. Plus you're nervous today." House tried to reassure her.

"Dr. House!" Anna called from across the room. "When are you coming to read to us?" Angel had never seen House blush before and bit back a smile.

House had on his gruff face but his voice said otherwise. "Soon," he called back.

"When?" Angel glanced down the row, looking at Anna standing there with her hands on her hips. Angel had to cover her face before House gave her a dirty look for laughing.

"Today, okay?" he sighed, defeated. Anna nodded her head and sat back down.

He made eye contact with Angel. "So I read to the bald kids. You should come with me." She nodded.

Angel couldn't help but laugh at the sweetness, and saw Wilson watching Anna. "How is Anna doing?" she whispered.

Wilson pursed his lips together. She could see him forcing the tears back. "She has a month. Maybe two. And she knows. But she is one of the most amazing patients I've ever had." Wilson shook his head, sighed. "Her original prognosis was a year."

Angel was horrified. Aside from her physical appearance, Anna was so full of life and joy. Foreman gently wrapped Angel in his arms, while she rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes with a ragged sigh.

House offered to wheel Angel back to her room while Foreman went back to the clinic. As they went slowly down the oncology wing, Angel couldn't help seeing the patients in varying degrees of illness. This time the urge to vomit was from fear, not the medicine. House noticed her trembling but said nothing.

They stopped in her room; House told her he'd fetch Nolan. "No," Angel said, crawling into bed, facing away from House so he couldn't see her tears. House paused, tempted to just leave. But he sighed, steeled himself, and sat facing her.

"Why not? Because obviously you are just fine right now." There was an edge to his voice and she looked into his eyes.

"I-I'm tired." She hugged her arms around her body, looking away.

"Look. I understand you're scared. But you have to get over it." Angel looked at him as if he'd just slapped her in the face.

"You have no idea what I'm going through!" She raised her voice, angry tears forming. "I could go through all this and still die!"

"And it scares the hell out of you. I do understand that. No, I haven't had cancer. But I've almost died a few times myself. It's scary and you feel helpless. But if you lose faith now, you might as well give up and go home because it's over. It doesn't matter what meds Wilson gives you, if you don't fight, you will die." House wanted to grab her, shake some sense into her, even though he knew she had every right to be terrified.

"That little girl scared you. But she's beaten the odds for years. She's had that much more life to spend with her family and don't think for a second they aren't grateful for that." House could see she was at a breaking point. He gently took her hand. "I'm not going to promise you that you won't die. But we will help you fight. But we can't force you to. You have to do that part. We want you around for a long time. I…..want you around." Angel looked into his eyes and saw the same tears that were forming in hers. Before she could react, House leaned over and hugged her. She melted against him, shuddering with a few more tears. When he stroked her hair, she let out a sigh.

"Hey. You got your hair cut." Out of the blue, Angel started laughing, wiping tears away. "It looks good on you."

"Thanks, House. I think I'm ready for Nolan now." House gave her a half-smile and nodded. At the doorway he paused. "You need anything, just page me." He didn't wait for an answer as he limped off to his office.

XXXXX

"So…how are you feeling?" Nolan knew by the look on her face this could be a difficult session.

Angel shrugged. "Scared, embarrassed, confused, in love. That's pretty much my life in, well, five words." She hated sounding so flip.

"Okay, big range of emotions. Let's start with the good one. I take it things are going well with Dr. Foreman?" He cocked his head.

Angel smiled a little. "He took me to a bed and breakfast this weekend. It was….the nicest thing anyone's done for me. Eric's wonderful to me. We're living together so he can help me through the chemo. It's kind of fast but…I really love him." Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled deeper.

"Sounds good. So how does he compare with other men you've had relationships with? Have you been in love before?"

"I…thought I was in love with James…Dr. Wilson. But he's my best friend. He just wasn't ready. And other men….I guess I thought it was love but nothing compares to what I have with Eric, except for the love I had for my son. Eric is gentle, very compassionate, and romantic. He puts me first. I….sometimes wonder what I did to deserve such an incredible man."

"Dr. Foreman sounds like he sees you for who you are, a good person, and he's willing to make sacrifices to help you during this tough time. Let's tackle some of the other things you mentioned."

"Obviously I'm scared about the cancer. And embarrassed because I threw up during my first treatment today. Right in front of House." Nolan raised his eyebrows.

"House is a doctor. I'm sure he's seen many patients do much more than vomit. Why does that embarrass you?"

"Well, he's technically still my boss, even though I'm on leave. And…well….that's the confusion part I mentioned." Angel pulled out her journal. "I got sick while on vacation. Nothing bad, just fever from dehydration. Eric and James were worried, but House was….over the top. He was chastising me over the phone, and I felt like saying…." Angel paused, looking at Nolan, feeling nervous. He nodded encouragingly.

"I felt like saying to House 'you're acting like my father'." Angel fell silent and bit her lip.

"Hmm. Sounds like you have strong feelings for House. Tell me why you feel confused."

"I mean…he's House. I was once attracted to him, when we first met. And then he's my boss, and we didn't get along well. But after he saved my life, things have felt….different. And I couldn't put a name to the feeling until the other day. Because I don't remember my father. I don't know what having a father is like."

Nolan wrote some things down and paused to think. "It's interesting that right now you seem to have surrounded yourself with caring nurturing males: House, Dr. Wilson, and Dr. Foreman. What about women?"

Angel felt a bit embarrassed to admit that aside from Hadley, her next door neighbor, and Maggie from the inn; she really hadn't felt close to anyone since Tricksy. Nolan made a few more thinking noises and made more notes.

"Now, I don't do this often, but we could do hypnotherapy to help you remember your past," Nolan offered. "We could start with your father. It might help you understand your relationship with House."

Angel looked frightened. "But what if it's too scary? What if it's stuff I don't want to remember?" Nolan took her hand.

"I understand your fear. Subconsciously your body remembers. The memories may affect how you live your life now. Doing it this way, we can control how much you remember at once, and I can help you deal with the memory. I can't promise it will be easy but I don't believe choosing to keep these memories buried is healthy for you. I would like to record these sessions as well." Nolan leaned back, waiting for Angel to decide.

_No fear_. "Okay. I trust you. Let's do it." Angel was trembling but determined.

Nolan had her get comfortable in her bed and dimmed the lights. He had her breathing slow and relaxed until she fell like she could fall asleep. "As I count to five, you're going to remember your life as Anna Hamilton, 5 years old." Nolan began counting. When he finished, Angel looked very peaceful with the hint of a smile on her face.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." Though it was still Angel's voice, the pitch was a bit higher, lighter.

"I want you to tell me about your father."

"He liked to have fun with me. He pushed me on the swings, and played games with me. He read to me at night. I love my daddy very much." Nolan couldn't help but smile at how happy she sounded.

"That sounds nice. Was your daddy always nice with you? Even if you did got into trouble?"

"My daddy was very nice. Sometimes I got a little spanking like when I ran out into the street but then he'd hug me and tell me how much he loved me. He was never mean, ever."

"What job does your daddy do?"

"He wore a uniform….he's in the army. He had to go away." Her voice became warbled with child-like sadness.

"Why is that?"

"He said he had to go fight some bad people but then he'd come back. But he didn't. He died. I was really sad and cried a lot." Her voice softened.

"What about your mother? What happened when your father left and when he died?" Nolan had a hunch but he hoped he was wrong.

"She…she said it was my fault he left. She said I was a bad girl and that's why he left. And it was my fault he died. I was….evil. I didn't mean to hurt my daddy," Angel cried out piteously.

"It's okay Anna. You're not a bad girl and you didn't hurt your daddy. Sometimes grownups say hurtful things when they are sad too."

"She drank a lot and slept a lot. Sometimes…." She stopped, biting her lip.

"It's okay; it's safe to tell me."

"Sometimes she would hit me even when I wasn't being bad. I still loved my mommy but she said she wished I'd never been born." Angel began to softly sob.

"I was all alone. I didn't like it at night. I was scared of the dark."

"Didn't anyone take care of you? A grandmother or grandfather maybe?" Angel shook her head.

"How long were you alone with your mom?" Even though he was recording the session, he still took notes.

"Until I was eight. Then the bad man came." Even Nolan felt chills when she said that. He decided that was enough for now, and brought Angel back to normal consciousness.

Angel wiped at her eyes, at first wondering why she'd been crying and slowly the memory Nolan helped her with took root. She felt a wave of happiness and sadness crash over her, almost overwhelming her. Nolan talked her through the panic until she felt she could speak.

"I….I remember my dad," Angel said, smiling though the rest of her face looked pained. She felt a little part of her heart that had been empty fill with the loving memories of her father. "And….my mom." Angel's face fell and she shuddered. Nolan took her hand.

"Angel, the things your mom told you were wrong, but as a child you didn't know how to defend yourself. Over time, these messages stuck with you, became voices in your dreams, defined your self-worth, or lack of it." Nolan's kind eyes searched hers and he hoped with time she could heal from the past rejection.

"But…why? I can't imagine feeling that way about Connor. Why did she hate me?" Angel began to cry again.

"Whatever her reasons for her anger, her drinking and her abuse, they were not your fault. She had the right to grieve, to even be angry at losing her husband, but never to direct it at you. One thing I have to say from this, you should be proud of yourself." Angel looked baffled. "You did not continue that cycle. You could have chosen to abort your son after being raped, you didn't. You were a wonderful mother. You mothered him the way you should have been. And despite being treated cruelly, you are kind. Look at those who care about you."

"Angel you've had some good and some bad memories restored. Try to focus on the good, and when you do think of the bad ones, use them to empower yourself. When the memory tells you you're bad, think of the ways you're not. Even speak to the voice if that works. Keep writing in your journal. Talk to Dr. Foreman. I even say share with House if you feel up to it. You've taken some big steps in healing. You're strong Angel. Be proud of yourself." Nolan ended the session with a quick hug and was glad to see that Hadley was outside so she wouldn't be alone right away.

Hadley leaned into her room with a smile, "Hey, is now a good…" Her face changed, seeing the tears Angel was wiping away. She came in, eyebrows knitted together, and immediately put her arms around her. "Angel, what is it?" she asked gently, her green eyes focused on her face.

"Rough session with Nolan. I'm getting some of my memories back. It's just hard remembering my dad, who was wonderful, only to lose him again. He died when I was five." Angel couldn't bring herself to mention her mother. She knew that Hadley's mother had died of Huntington's chorea and she had issues with her death. No need to burden her friend. She put on a brave face.

"So, when are you and Chase leaving for Jamaica?" Hadley smiled a bit but her face still held concern for Angel.

"Tomorrow. That's why I was stopping by; I'm getting off early to finish packing. But….Angel, I'm sorry about your dad." Her hand brushed Angel's.

"It was a long time ago. I'll be fine. I'm just tired. Promise to bring me back a seashell?" She smiled at Hadley, hoping to ease her worry.

She nodded, and gave her a hug before leaving. Angel had her turn out the lights and draw the blinds, saying she wanted a nap. In truth, Angel didn't want anyone to see her cry. The moment Hadley left, sobs choked her chest. Angel felt like it was just too painful to breathe anymore and wished she could stop. True, she was mourning her father. But the rejection from her mother was more than her heart could bear. And now she knew where she learned to cry without a sound, to avoid the wrath of a mother who would scream at her if she so much as whimpered in the dark at night. To someone passing by, only the closest observer would notice the slight shuddering of her body, huddled under the blankets.

Angel felt herself falling into those dark memories, as helpless as she'd been all those years ago. She didn't hear footsteps crossing the room. When a hand touched her arm, she flinched, throwing up an arm from the blow she surely expected, her eyes wild with fear, and she let out a wounded cry.

House stepped back for a moment. "Hey, it's alright, it's me. Angel, it's House. What the…" He'd come to see how things had gone since Nolan had told him he'd used hypnotherapy. Obviously she was not coping well.

He quickly flipped on a light and could see she was struggling to breathe. After putting an oxygen mask on her, House checked her vitals. Her pulse and BP were dangerously high. He paged for some help and got an IV started, all the while, trying to reassure Angel she was okay. A dose of sedative and pain meds finally calmed her to a point she was coherent.

As House turned to pull up a chair, Angel reached out and clutched his shirt as though she was drowning and he was her only chance to stay afloat. "Easy, I'm not going anywhere. I just need a chair." Slowly she relaxed her grip; House took her hand when he sat. "Now, tell me what the hell happened in your session." House was brimming with anger at Nolan. How could he have left her in such a vulnerable state?

"I….remember my parents." Angel said, once the oxygen mask was removed. House kept her on a nasal canula to be on the safe side. "My dad….is dead." She felt like crying but there were no more tears, and the sedative was doing its job.

Thinking of his own father, House encouraged her to continue. "He was wonderful. Everything I could want in a dad. But he died in combat when I was five." House's eyes widened slightly. He had pegged her father for some of her earlier abuse but obviously he was wrong which left…

"My mom…" Angel's voice broke. "She blamed me. She didn't want me." Her eyes searched House's for some ounce of comfort, but he looked away, unsure of how to respond.

"The voices….the ones in your dreams. They're your mom's words." House said flatly. Angel nodded. His stomach churned. He knew what it was like to be rejected by a parent, for no reason other than existing. It hadn't been his fault his mother had an affair, that he wasn't his biological son. But he was punished all the same. "They're not true. You have to believe that. Just like the cancer, you have to fight against those ugly notions she put into your head."

"I know it must hurt to remember your dad only to lose him again, but he loved you. And you have to hold onto that." House squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes. "Did she hurt you? Physically?" His jaw clenched when she nodded again. "I'm sorry, Angel." He wanted to say more but he was afraid of hurting Angel more than she'd already been hurt. She needed stability, like Foreman and Wilson.

House could see the toll the day was taking on her. "You need rest. And before you ask, yes, I'll stay." He flicked the lights off and returned to her bedside, reaching for her hand. "Hold it as long as you need to."

"House…I…thank you," Angel whispered, her voice sounding tiny, broken. He nodded, barely resisting the urge to stroke her hair. He didn't let go for a long time, even after she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

House was waiting for Nolan in his office at Mayfield for his weekly session. His piercing glare caught Nolan by surprise as he settled into his chair and took out House's file. Nolan greeted House, who said nothing, just gripped his cane tighter. "House, you seem angry."

"You're damn right I'm angry!" House exploded, leaping to his feet and pacing the office. "When I got into Angel's room after your session—"

"Wait, this has to do with Angel? I'm not sure I understand. Sit down, and let's go over this." Genuine concern and confusion took Nolan by surprise.

"I'd rather stand," House growled. Upon seeing Nolan's concern grow deeper, House took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. Besides, his rant, he tried to rationalize with himself, wouldn't help Angel and could very well get him a time out with sedative in a room at Mayfield. He couldn't help but emit a small shudder.

He began again, softer, but still bristling. "When I got to Angel's room, she could barely breathe, her blood pressure was so high I thought she'd stroke out. It took oxygen and sedation to get her stable enough to speak. How could you do that to her? I thought we agreed not to overstress her!"

"Angel seemed stable when I left her room. Dr. Hadley was there, and I did stay awhile in case Angel needed to speak with me again." Anyone else might be intimidated with House glowering over them, but Nolan knew House more than most.

"Well, she wasn't fine! What, you thought you could just give her the memory of her parents—one abusive I might add—and then say, 'oh sorry the one parent who gave a shit about you is dead'? She was devastated! I sat with her until she fell asleep." House finally took a seat, rubbing his leg, running out of steam at the memory.

Nolan looked at him for a moment. "House, what is this connection you've made with Angel? It's certainly more than physical, especially with her relationship with Foreman."

House looked like he wanted to deflect, make a snarky comment, but instead, slowly stood up and walked over to the window. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"Try me." Nolan's face softened. He'd been working so long with House on making connections, getting to the heart of real relationships, and he felt the glimmer of a breakthrough.

House was silent, watching the rain running down the windowpanes. Angel had joined him while he read to the kids in oncology yesterday afternoon. Anna had snuggled into Angel's lap, and he was touched by the motherly tenderness she showed. But through the smile and laughter, he saw a look in her eyes that worried him. Like her fire and strength giving out, letting go. It wasn't the cancer. Her spirit was dying inside and he didn't know how to fix that.

House cleared his throat, jolting his attention back to Nolan. "Ever since she nearly died….I can't put my finger on it. You know my relationship with my father was dysfunctional at best. I don't know my biological father. I rarely speak to my mom. Wilson's the closest thing I have to family…..Angel's a good person. The things that have happened to her….if you could have seen her face yesterday…." House shook his head. He knew he wasn't making sense.

"I…want to take care of her. Make sure nothing else happens to her. Get her through the hell that was her childhood. Give her the kind of….support she didn't have for all these years." House fell silent.

"In what capacity? Friend? Doctor? Employer?" Nolan knew exactly where House was going with this but Nolan needed for him to say it.

Still looking out the window, House shook his head. "No, I mean, yes, all those things but…when she held my hand yesterday, I know how much she trusts me. I feel like….a father."

"Her father?" Nolan asked gently. He knew House was extremely vulnerable right now.

House simply nodded. With his head turned, Nolan was glad he couldn't see him smile. "How does that make you feel?"

"I'm scared I'm going to hurt her. Or let her down. Or even be rejected. It doesn't make sense. I'm not her father! I'm too old to start being a parent now, not that I even know how to…I don't know….maybe these feelings mean nothing. Maybe I'm just too involved in her case." House looked back at Nolan, genuine fear in his eyes.

"Let's look at it from Angel's point of view. How do you think she sees you? You said she trusts you, held your hand." House looked thoughtful and slowly nodded. The way she looked at him. It wasn't the way she looked at Foreman or Wilson. It was different.

"So what do I do?" Now House looked panicky.

"I don't think you have to do anything other than what you've been doing. Listen to her, help her fight the cancer and her past, be compassionate. Let her know you're there for her. The biggest thing, don't take everything personally. She's used to having people reject her, abuse her. Trusting someone in a family role completely may be very difficult for her. As I know it may be hard for you. Communication is crucial."

When House didn't respond, Nolan continued. "You might want to consider sitting in on her sessions. Then she has someone who knows exactly what went on, and can help her through the emotions."

"Wait a minute, why not Foreman? He's her boyfriend," House protested.

"And he may be too close. Quite frankly since he has to care for her the rest of the day and evening, delegating roles may be in her best interest. And you're bound to be more logical about her response to therapy. She needs someone who will hold her hand and tell her the truth. Someone who experienced abuse from a parent."

House let out a long resigned sigh. "Okay then."

XXXXX

Though slightly unnerved by his session, House decided to stop by Angel's room. Outside were several women, none whom House recognized. Foreman was leaning against the door frame.

"What's the matter, Foreman, Angel replacing you already?" House announced, garnering stares from the women and a glare from Foreman.

"We're interviewing home nurses," Foreman answered shortly. He turned when a young woman exited Angel's room.

"Excuse me, Dr. Foreman, but Ms. Hoffman would like a word with you," she said with a sweet British accent. She sat amongst the other women while Foreman and House went in.

"Mission accomplished," Angel said, beaming. "Sadie Kimball. She's perfect. I think we're halfway to being best friends already."

"Angel, don't you want to at least speak to the rest?" Foreman looked unsure. House sat down to watch how this played out.

"Eric. I appreciate all the work you did to gather the potential nurses, but she'll be caring for me. I like Sadie very much." House couldn't help but smile to see a bit of her spitfire charm back. She had her mind made up and it was written all over her face.

"Okay, okay. I'll have her come back in and dismiss the rest." It was then that Foreman caught House smiling and glared at him. He wasn't really cross with Angel but House's smirk rubbed him the wrong way.

Sadie entered and Angel had her sit next to her bed. Foreman had to admit that the two had hit it off; Angel seemed completely comfortable with the young woman. "I would like for you to be my nurse," Angel told her. Sadie smiled and squeezed her hand.

"I'd like that, thank you. I can tell we're going to get along famously," she chirped.

"My boyfriend will have all the details for you, and my oncologist, Dr. James Wilson wants to speak with you as well," Angel told her.

"Hey, don't forget me," House interjected, looking serious. Angel sighed.

"House—" Angel started to roll her eyes at him.

"I'm your doctor too. I'll confer with her in Wilson's office." He stood, waiting.

"Sorry for the inquisition, Sadie," Angel said. "Hang in there. They aren't as tough as they seem. And remember," Angel lowered her voice, "I call the shots around here." Both women laughed.

Sadie followed Foreman, but House paused in her room. Angel looked at him expectantly.

"You doing ok today?" House tried to sound casual but he was searching her face for signs of stress.

Angel nodded, a bit embarrassed from yesterday's meltdown. "Got sick again but, you know. Alright. You?"

House nodded. "Okay. Leg hurts. All this rain." There was an awkward pause between them. "Look, I know yesterday's session was a bitch. If you ever want to talk, I'm here. I understand. My dad didn't win father of the year." He ducked his head a bit, feeling very uncomfortable.

"Okay. Thanks." She fingered the edge of the blanket, trying to pull it up. It got caught in the bed railing and her IV tubing.

"Here, let me…" House gently took the blanket from her hands, untangled it, and tucked her in. "Is that good?"

"Yeah." She smiled up at him. That smile had always been his undoing. Now he knew why.

"Hey, Nolan wants me to sit in your sessions with you. Is that alright?" Absentmindedly, he brushed back a wisp of hair from her cheek. She blushed a little.

"Sure. I think that would help." Why was her heart fluttering like this? He couldn't have read her thoughts and Nolan wouldn't break confidentiality. And she was sure House hadn't read her journal. Yet here he was, acting like a parent would.

"Great. Well. I'm going to go down and make sure that nurse is suitable to care for you. Want the lights out?" She nodded. He patted her hand. "Have a good rest, Angel."

XXXXX

House was brooding that evening, more so than usual, Wilson noticed. The cold rainy weather had him asking for a morphine shot when they got home. "House, did your session with Nolan go okay?" Wilson was used to House being gruff, surly, and even rude. But his somber mood of late was beginning to worry him.

House just nodded, focusing on eating the Chinese takeout from a container. His session, combined with his talk with Angel had his mind reeling.

"So….I was thinking. We have this huge loft. We never had a housewarming party. Thanksgiving's in a couple of weeks." Wilson was on a mission and he brought his puppy dog eyes and dimpled smile. House eyed him warily. Quickly, Wilson continued. "I thought we could invite everyone here. It could be fun."

"Uh-huh. And just who is 'everyone'?" House paused with his chopsticks.

"Well, Angel and Foreman. She's not up to traveling anywhere. Remy and Chase," Wilson added.

"Chase is Australian. I don't think they celebrate Thanksgiving," House griped.

Wilson gave him 'the look' and decided to just keep on. "Taub and his wife, though she may have family in the area. I…assume you wouldn't want Lisa and Lucas, though it would be a nice gesture," Wilson said, trying not to rub the back of his neck.

"Remember that he's the one who flooded this loft. No way in hell," House answered with a low growl.

"Okay, you have a point. But what do you think? We can do the turkey; you can make one of your exotic appetizers, and make the rest potluck. I think….it would be good for Angel." Wilson was almost sure he'd sold the idea on House.

House stabbed at a piece of sesame chicken and chewed on it, thinking. He knew Wilson was right, especially where Angel was concerned, but he didn't want to give in right away.

"Well?" Wilson began clearing the empty containers from the table.

"Okay. But I'm not taking any credit for this shindig. Ruin my reputation." House eyed him, thinking he looked a little too happy. "So…what do I do? Put an announcement up on the white board?"

"I….had hoped you'd say yes, since I mailed out the invitations today." Wilson ducked at the fortune cookie thrown at his head.


	3. Chapter 3

Evenings in the hospital were not Angel's favorite time. It was too quiet, some lights dimmed, others turned off. Tomorrow she would go home so Foreman was putting in some overtime in his office. House popped his head in with a grin.

"Hey there! What are you doing here so late? I would have thought you'd have gone home by now," Angel said, pleased but surprised.

"Wilson's working on some things. I found something to show you. Think you can walk okay?" He gestured to the wheelchair.

"I'll bring my cane just in case. What are you up to?" Her lips curved up but her eyes were a mix of playful curiosity.

"You'll see," House called out as she put on her pink robe and followed. He unlocked a room, flipped on the lights and there was a well-worn piano on one wall of the room.

"Oh! You're going to play for me?" she asked with a huge grin.

"Nope. You are." She noticed there was sheet music already set up. Her face fell and she began to back away.

"I…haven't played in a long time," she said, voice trembling, shaking her head. House gently put his hand across her back to halt her retreat.

"Hey, I'm not expecting a concert performance; I just thought you'd enjoy it, since you've been without a piano for so long. Just give it a try. I promise I won't laugh," he encouraged her, though confused at her reticence.

Angel sat for a minute, fingers tenuously reaching for the keys, but she snatched her hands back and jumped off the bench, nearly toppling it. "I—I can't. I'm sorry House." She couldn't take her eyes off the piano.

"I know your hands hurt. I know you're afraid of the pain, but it might be good physical therapy for you…." House stopped. She was pale, eyes wide and fixated on the piano. _The x-rays of her hands…_

Softly, House touched her shoulder, making her yelp. He directed her over to a couple of chairs and they sat. "Angel, tell me what happened."

Angel hated that her fear made things so visible, especially to House. "I was living with a guy who had a piano. I…don't remember why he had it, he couldn't play. Anyway…I was off one day, working on a piece and almost had this one part. It was hard but I was determined I was going to master it. He came home early. He…he'd been fired and was drunk. I knew I should have stopped right then but I was being stubborn." Her voice was softer, frantic. House could see her breathing was harder and she was wringing her hands.

"He told me to stop, and I told him in a few minutes. I was so involved I…I should have heard that tone in his voice but I didn't. He came over to the piano, just stood there, and for a second I thought his smile meant he was enjoying it." Now her breathing came in gulps, Angel's body trembling.

"He slammed the lid on my hands then leaned his body weight on it. I…I screamed for him to let me go…oh god, the pain…I started to black out, it felt like forever, he just laughed. And when he let up, I fell to the floor. Some of my fingers were already turning purple, and I threw up. And he leaned over me and said 'now maybe you'll stop when I tell you bitch'." Angel was panting, cradling her hands, her skin ghostly pale.

House felt like he would vomit after hearing this. "Son of a bitch…" he hissed. He marveled that she wasn't completely crippled after such abuse. "Angel, I'm sorry, I…" He touched her shoulder and she flinched away from him. He lurched towards her as her eyes fluttered closed and she began to faint.

"_Shit_," House growled at himself, as he gently eased her to the floor. "I need some help in here!" With his leg, he couldn't do much but check her vitals. Some nurses scrambled in and House barked at them to bring a gurney. Angel was physically ok—her pulse was a bit weak, but the stress of the memory had been too much.

House got her settled in her room and got another IV going. Foreman told him she'd been having trouble keeping food down already, and this was only the beginning. He sat on the edge of her bed, cursing himself. He'd known about the fractures in her hands. He should have asked. Foreman was going to give him hell…

Foreman came in quickly, his face etched with worry. "One of the nurses told me she fainted. She was fine when I last checked on her. House?" He took her hand as looked to his boss.

House was about to confess—though he thought the look on his face would say it all—when Angel murmured to Foreman, "I'm okay. Just weaker than I thought. No more hallway marathons for me." She tried to smile and glanced at House when Foreman hugged her.

"I'm going to speak to Wilson about getting you some nutrient IV." Foreman gently stroked her face. "Are you sure you're okay? I only have a little work left."

"Yeah. Looks like me and the IV pole are going to be bonding." She took his hand and kissed it. "Go, finish your work so you have the whole weekend free to pamper me," Angel said with a wink.

He left reluctantly, leaving House a bit confused. "You didn't tell him what happened. Why?"

"I…really didn't want to talk about it again. And Eric is so overprotective; I knew he'd blow it out of proportion." Angel sighed and closed her eyes, exhausted.

"Angel if I'd known, I never would have—" She opened her eyes and looked at him firmly.

"Yes, you would."

"Okay. I would have. But not right away. And…I did know you had injuries in your hands, I just didn't know why," House confessed guiltily.

"But how…?" She looked at him quizzically. "The MRI." House nodded. "So then you know about my other….boyfriends." Again, a grim nod.

"Why did you let these men abuse you? What if they'd hurt your son?" House's voice got a bit louder.

"I would have never let these men around him! This was after…" Angel looked away. House carefully took both of her hands, gently feeling each finger.

"How badly does it hurt?" He asked, his voice lower.

"They hurt. But I can still do things," Angel said with a sigh.

"After your treatments we'll get you into an orthopedist and see if there's anything they can do to improve your pain. If you can type, I don't see why you can't play the piano again," House encouraged her.

"It's not that I can't." She shook her head, looking queasy again. "I've never touched a piano since."

The two sat there in silence. "You can do it again. I have faith in you."

"I'm not strong and brave like you House. I wish I were."

"What makes you think I'm strong or brave? Foreman told you how he nearly died? I was scared. When Amber and Kutner died….I certainly wasn't strong. I've been shot, was terrified the infarction was going to kill me….Trust me, Angel. You're stronger than you think." House looked her straight in the eyes.

"Then why…can't I remember my past? Plenty of people have lost parents, or faced abuse and they didn't need to black out ten years of their life. I'm scared that the rest makes what I remembered in Nolan's office…." Angel's eyes narrowed. House wasn't looking at her but the floor now. "House. Look at me. You know something, don't you." He didn't need to answer. One look into his eyes was all Angel needed.

Angel swallowed hard and clenched her jaw. He could see anger flickering in her eyes now. "How do you know? Do I talk in my sleep? Why haven't you told me?"

"When your boss kicked you, you went into shock and began talking to me as though you were nine. You thought I was your grandfather, your Mórai. We….thought with everything it was best not to overwhelm you, let you battle the cancer." Even to House, this sounded flimsy.

"We? Who else knows?" Her voice was raised, fists clenched.

"Foreman, Wilson and Nolan. Angel, I'm sorry." She turned away, looking angrier than he'd ever seen. He rose, thinking it best to leave her in peace. She'd been put through enough today.

But when he reached the door, he heard her voice, still angry but on the verge of tears. "It's bad, what I told you, isn't it."

"Yeah." She turned to look at him, and the anger melted, rapidly replaced by fear and anxiety. Angel's breathing became shallow and unsteady. House came back, grabbing the oxygen mask. "Easy, easy now, it's going to be okay." He stroked her hair and she struggled to regain control. Eyes closed, a tear rolled down her cheek.

After a few minutes she had calmed enough for House to remove the mask. They looked at each other, not speaking. Finally, Angel asked, "I have a grandfather?"

"I'm sorry Angel; he…died when you were young. But I did find a picture of him," House replied, unsure of her reaction.

"Really? I'd like to see it." Still weak, she brightened a bit. Encouraged, House told her he'd be right back. He returned with a print out that he'd framed, mentally reminding himself he owed Wilson a frame now.

Angel ran her fingertips over the image. "He looks so much like you! And…he has Connor's smile!" Her grin grew larger as she compared the two.

"He's got your smile too," House pointed out, glad for this momentary respite for Angel.

"Thank you House," she said, placing the frame next to Connor's on her bedside. She looked at House, eyes worried again. "How bad was my childhood?"

House looked uncomfortable. "Angel, I really think it best if we wait for next week's session with Nolan. I don't know all the details and I'm not a psychologist. I don't want to do more damage than I've already done today."

"House….please don't feel guilty. You don't know how much you've helped me." She took a deep breath. "In fact, I feel like—"

Wilson came in suddenly, sleeves rolled up, tie off, all signs he was ready to go home. "Hello gorgeous, heard you had a rough evening," he said, kissing her gently on the cheek. Angel blushed. "Talked with Foreman, I'm putting you on the nutritive IV once a day plus fluids once a day."

Angel soured up her face and began to protest. "Look, I know it's not fun, and the IV site hurts. But this is better than you staying in the hospital for the duration of your treatment or having to go through dialysis because your kidneys are shot."

"Okay, James." She sighed, defeated.

"Oh and by the way, I like your nurse," he said with a smile.

"Hey, hands off! No dating my nurse," Angel scolded, pointing her finger at him. "You have a reputation for nurses, and besides, she's too young for you." Angel finished with a mock scowl.

"I promise not to date her. But she's your age," Wilson reminded her.

Angel couldn't keep the scowl any longer and laughed. "I was too young for you." He blushed at the sexy wink she gave him.

"Well, I'm all set. House, you ready?"

"Just a sec. Angel, you were saying, right before Wilson came in?" Something in her tone said it was important.

Angel waved it off, having lost her nerve. "Nothing, really. I'll see you next week at my session?"

"You bet. Have a good weekend." House nodded.

After Wilson kissed her forehead, House found himself going back to her bedside. Though it pained his leg, he leaned over and gave her a tight hug. "Thanks for everything, House."

Angel watched them leave, a whirlwind of emotions pressing her on every side. Not a moment too soon, Foreman came in, looking as though he, too, was done for the evening. She greeted him with a kiss and a long hug. He noticed how tight she was gripping him.

"Something wrong, baby?" He sat on her bed. Skipping details, she told him that some of her past had come up in talking with House. Foreman crawled into the bed and cradled her.

"I can't wait until we can cuddle in our bed at home," Angel sighed. She noted the time. "Look if you're hungry, go ahead and eat. I'm not feeling up to it."

"I ate in my office. I wasn't sure how smells were affecting you. But Angel, you need to eat, even just a little. " Angel felt green at the idea of food, but relented to a small cup of yogurt. Mercifully it stayed down.

Foreman reluctantly left the bed so she'd be more comfortable. Both were counting the hours until she was home again.


	4. Chapter 4

Home, indeed, was good medicine for Angel. Sleeping in on Saturday felt like a grand luxury; being able to stretch out on the bed, cuddling for endless hours with Foreman was pure heaven. Even though she felt sick and had not yet eaten, she felt happy.

The buzz of the doorbell made both of them pick up their sleepy heads. Foreman kissed her temple, said "I'll chase whomever it is away and be right back," with a feisty growl, and pulled on a t-shirt over his jogging pants.

"Hey Angel, you have a giant box here. Did you order something?" She could hear him lugging it into the family room, trying not to bang it into anything.

"No," she called back, wrapping her pink robe around her naked body, rubbing her eyes. It was a big box, with a card attached. Angel reached for that first. Inside she read:

_Angel,_

_No lid, no fear._

_I have faith in you._

_House_

With a giggle, she tore open the brown wrapping paper and squealed with delight. It was a full size electronic keyboard. Despite the overwhelming fear she'd experienced the other night with House and the piano, she knew this was his way of trying to help her heal—in more ways than one.

"House sent you a keyboard?" Foreman was truly stunned. House was in the habit of getting expensive gifts, but never giving them. But even he couldn't resist the grin on her face, like a kid at Christmas. "I'll get it set up for you, just tell me where." There was wall space near her book case; it would just fit.

"I have to make a phone call," Angel announced and practically danced to the bedroom to her phone.

When she returned, Angel could tell that Foreman was ready to hear her play and that scared her. "Eric, I don't know how else to say this….I need to try out the keyboard alone. I promise I'll explain later. But for now…how about picking up some Thai food? I actually feel hungry," she said with a shy smile.

Foreman couldn't help but hide concern from his face. But he had to trust her. "Okay then. The usual?" She nodded as she hovered by the keyboard. He watched as she reached her fingertips towards it, but then pulled them back. When he left, she finally sat on the bench and flipped the switch on.

She smiled as she looked over the multitude of buttons for various sounds. House had spared little expense. Angel grabbed a book of classical music and opened it to Moonlight Sonata. Fingers poised above the keys, she felt her breathing increase, and her chest tighten. She propped the card from House next to the book and found a glimmer of courage. As she began to play, Angel felt another piece of her heart heal, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

XXXXX

"So I ran into Foreman at the Thai restaurant," Wilson said to House as he set down the bags on the table. "You got Angel a keyboard."

"Yep." House poured himself a mug of tea and leaned against the counter, not making eye contact.

"House, I have to ask this…" Wilson rubbed the back of his neck, his voice serious. "Are you and Angel having an affair?"

House spewed his tea across the counter. "No! And I am not cleaning that up! What the hell, Wilson?" House shouted, throwing a dishtowel at Wilson.

"It's just that….many people have begun to notice your attention towards Angel. I haven't seen you treat a woman this way since…." Wilson stopped cleaning the counter and furrowed his brow. "I can't recall you ever treating a woman this way. You can't blame me for being concerned. Both as your friend, her friend and doctor."

"She's going to be home a lot, doesn't have room for a piano, and it's good PT for her hands. But I can see why the rumor mill would view this as a sinister act," House sniped.

"Fine. So what's really going on here, House? This isn't just the abuse is it?" Wilson looked into House's eyes. House looked away. "Then…what? House you've lost me on this one." Wilson shook his head.

"I….talked to Nolan about this. I have been having feelings for Angel, but not the kind you think. She lost her father, grandfather and son. Her mother abused her; stepfather did god-knows-what. Sure, she's got Foreman as a boyfriend and a few friends but….when it comes down to it, she's alone. I….don't want her to be alone. I know what that's like. You're the closest person I have to family, James."

Wilson took in a deep breath. It was exceedingly rare for House to ever use his first name. Wherever this was going, House was deadly serious and unnerved, by the look in his eyes. Wilson put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "House, what is it?"

"I….I want to be her family. I don't really know what it's like but if my hunch is correct, I'd like to be her father."

Wilson's mouth opened and closed without a sound. He sat at the table, dazed. Finally he looked at House. "Seriously? I mean, you are aware she's in her 20's and you're—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. It sounds crazy. I thought Nolan would lock me up. But….he actually thought it would be good for both of us. God knows he's harped on me all year about making connections, working on relationships. You think this is nuts." House sat across from him at the table.

Wilson continued to gape like a fish out of water. "Well, far be it for me to disagree with Dr. Nolan. What does Angel think about this?" House looked down at his cane. "She doesn't know, does she." Wilson ran his hand through his hair. "That might prove to be difficult if you're expecting a tie on Father's Day."

House flashed a glare at him. "I don't know how to bring this up. Any ideas wise guy?"

"Well, I'm going to go out on a limb, but the keyboard kind of shouts that you care," Wilson said with a smile. "I think it's nice. Angel can definitely use all the care and support she can get. Mazel Tov."

XXXXX

Foreman praised Angel's musical skills until she glowed. He was thrilled to see her eat a bit of dinner. But the gift and the note card from House had him confused and a bit jealous. She made one more call to House that evening; he couldn't overhear the conversation, but she sounded happy.

That night in bed, Foreman curled up around Angel, not wanting to ruin her good mood, but quickly wondering what House was up to where it concerned his girlfriend. She made happy purring sounds as she nestled her body against his.

"Good day?" he whispered in her ear.

"Wonderful day," she happily sighed.

"Pretty nice of House to send that keyboard. You two have really hit it off lately. A lot of people have noticed the spell you've cast on him," he said, hoping he didn't sound too jealous.

Angel rolled over, looked at him. "You know there's only one man I like to enchant," she purred.

"I do?" Foreman had a serious look on his face that surprised Angel.

"Eric, yes. Is something wrong?" Now she was worried.

Foreman sighed and looked away. Upsetting Angel was the last thing he wanted to do. "No…it's just that…House is different with you. And you promised to explain about the keyboard. And I'm just being an overprotective ass." He smiled at her as he stroked her cheek.

Angel blushed and looked a bit uncomfortable. "Eric, it's hard to explain."

Foreman sat up. "Is something going on with you and House?" He felt his heart pound.

She quickly sat up, looking frantic. "Eric, no, I swear, it's not what you think!" Angel started shaking hard; Foreman realized she'd faced this scenario before and took her hands gently to calm her.

"It's okay, I trust you. I'm just…confused. But if you're not ready to tell me, I understand."

Angel hung her head. "I-I'm confused too. I only just learned about my dad and my grandfather. Not to mention my mother. I know very little about my family. And….I feel very close to House. Not just as a friend or doctor, not like I feel about you but….like a parent."

"Wow, the idea of House as a parent…." Foreman was stunned, but he had to admit, the description did fit. "Does House know how you feel?"

"Not in so many words, but….he certainly acts like it. Especially with the keyboard…" Angel told him what had happened when House took her to the piano, how she'd been abused all those years ago. "Leave it to House to find a way to help me overcome this fear," Angel said, wiping a few tears.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," Foreman said, cradling her in his arms, feeling guilty for doubting her or House.

"You thought I had a thing for House,"Angel giggled. "Silly man." She wrapped her arms around Foreman and showed him exactly how much she loved him all evening long.


	5. Chapter 5

The week before Thanksgiving, the team was surprised to receive invitations for dinner with House and Wilson at their loft. Taub and his wife were going to spend time with her family, but promised to drop by to say hello. Foreman's father was spending the holiday with some distant relatives where he lived, so Foreman didn't have to choose between Angel and his father. House was on his way up to the conference room when he passed by Cuddy.

"House, how's Angel doing?" It was easy for her to start a conversation with him this way.

"Fine. You should call her sometime." House didn't care for chitchat as he waited for the elevator. Nolan had wanted him to work on his relationship with Cuddy and Lucas this week. Fat chance.

"Lucas, and I are having Thanksgiving dinner at my place, if you and Wilson would like to join us," she said, nervously. Though House and Lucas occasionally worked a case together, his relationship with Cuddy had soured House's attitude towards both of them.

"Sorry, can't. Wilson and I are having dinner at our place with the team." He gave her a smug smile.

"Oh," she said, a mix of surprise and hurt, realizing she'd been left off the guest list. "Well. That sounds nice."

"Yep. See ya," he said quickly as he got on the elevator and the doors closed.

XXXXX

Sadie was proving to be a jewel of a nurse for Angel. They truly did get along well, sharing so many similarities that unless she was resting, Angel was hardly ever bored. She never flinched when Angel got sick, which was happening with more frequency, to Angel's dismay. Not only was she quick to clean up but very comforting and soothing, which Angel appreciated.

Angel was so exhausted this morning; it had been a rough night, between getting ill and odd dreams. She was coming out of one now. It had been pleasant enough; she'd dreamed she and Foreman were having a picnic in a giant field of wildflowers. She was laying there among the fragrant blooms, staring up at the sky. Only now, as she was waking to the smell of Sadie cooking breakfast, she felt like the blossoms were still tangled in her hair. When she reached up, she let out a cry that brought Sadie running.

XXXXX

Seated around the conference table, Foreman's phone began to ring loudly to the song 'Ebony and Ivory'. He glared at House. "Have you been messing with my ringtones?"

"Oh come on, it was so much better than that random Angel song you picked," House replied with a grin.

Foreman answered the phone and immediately his face was covered in a frown. He took the call outside the room. The team saw him let out a heavy sigh with closed eye and bowed head. They looked at him with worry as he came back in. He was silent for a minute. "That was the nurse. Angel's hair began to fall out. She's pretty upset, but she didn't even want her to call me."

"Go home to her," House said quietly. When Foreman began to protest, House interrupted. "Look we've got this case covered right now. She needs you. I'll call if we need your input. Tell her….tell her we're sorry." A few eyebrows rose at this show of compassion but Foreman didn't need to be told twice. He gathered his things and left.

When he entered the apartment he could hear her crying, Sadie trying hard to comfort her. Angel looked up at Foreman in surprise, her eyes bright red. "Wh-what are you doing home?"

"I called him love," Sadie replied, rubbing her back. "Times like this you need him instead of me." She got up and went back to the family room to give them privacy.

Foreman sat on the bed next to her. She fell into his arms trying to quell a new bout of tears. He kissed her forehead gently. The sight of places where her hair had fallen out broke his heart; wisps trailed down her shirt and across the bed. "I'm so sorry Angel."

She looked up at him. "Remember what you promised me?" Angel was trembling but the look on her face was resolute.

"Are you sure?" She nodded. A few more strands of hair fell across her cheek and she closed her eyes.

"Okay then." Foreman headed to the bathroom, holding her hand. She sat on her shower seat, facing away from the mirror and flinched when he turned on the razor. He'd had to do this to patients facing surgery, but every hair that fell here brought him closer to tears.

When he was done, and he turned the razor off, the silence was deafening. Angel had a few hiccupy sighs, but he could tell she was steeling herself for that first look in the mirror. Gently he brushed the hair off her clothes. She couldn't bear to look down to see it at her feet.

Slowly she stood and faced the mirror, Foreman right behind her. He watched her face twist with mixed emotions. She brought her hand up and ran a few fingers across her now bare scalp. Angel was breathing hard and a few tears slipped down her cheeks. "You're right. We do look a lot alike now." Angel tried to smile but it was too soon, the pain too fresh. She turned away from the mirror, burying herself in his chest.

Sadie had cleaned the bed off while they were in the bathroom. Foreman helped Angel into some fresh clothes and simply held her. "I know it's just hair," Angel murmured. "Seems so stupid to be crying over."

"You're not stupid. Not a bit," he soothed her, kissing the top of her head. She pulled away.

"You…you don't have to do that." Angel couldn't look at him.

"Do what? Kiss you? You're upset and—"

"You don't have to touch….my head," Angel said, feeling ashamed, biting her lip.

"Baby, I won't if you don't want me to. But it's still you. It's soft, like the rest of your skin. You don't love me any less because I don't have hair, right?" He gently took her chin in his hand so she'd look at him.

"Of course not, but you're a guy. I'm not supposed to be bald," she said, now feeling stubborn.

"You're still the woman I fell in love with." He shrugged. "It's a change, but not a bad one." He pulled her to him and began kissing the top of her head. Angel tried to pull away but Foreman was intent on kissing every part. She began to giggle at this new sensation and her attempts became playful in nature.

"Shall I leave you two and run an errand?" called Sadie from the other room. Angel blushed and laughed, asking her to come in. She was nervous to see Sadie's reaction.

Sadie stood there, looking thoughtful. She'd been with many cancer patients before, so it wasn't a shock to her. "I'd say much better than Sinead O' Connor, but maybe not as hot as Demi Moore in G. I. Jane." Angel laughed, stood and hugged Sadie, thanking her. "My pleasure, Angel. Would you like me to clean up the bathroom now?" Angel nodded. She'd already gathered a lock of hair to save, feeling sentimental.

"Oh hey, Sadie, don't worry about that. I'm home for the day. I'll do it," Foreman said. Sadie smiled, raised an eyebrow.

"You sure you can't even share him a bit?" Sadie let out a dramatic sigh that made Angel grin. "Ah well. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Angel." Quickly she let herself out.

"Feel better, even a little?" He tenderly cupped her cheeks. She nodded. "By the way, House said to tell you he was sorry." Both of them raised their eyebrows. "I think your vibe is right on, Angel. He…he cares for you."

Angel sighed, closing her eyes, feeling exhausted, and her hands beginning to shake. "When's the last time you had food or an IV?" Foreman picked up Sadie's clipboard that traveled from home to hospital so no mistakes were made.

"Sadie was making breakfast just when I noticed my hair all over. Then you came…so…."

"So, way too long. I'm going to do both now, plus your zofran. Angel, you have to remember this….you've lost a bit too much weight already. And I like those curves," Foreman smiled, trying not to lecture too much.

It wasn't long after hooking up the first IV that Angel dozed off, Foreman watching her sleep. She was entirely too pale, purple circles around her eyes becoming a usual thing daily. It took a lot to get a blush. How was she going to make it for 3 more months, plus the bone marrow transfer?

Foreman thought of his parents, bowed his head and prayed. He wasn't as devout as his parents, but he believed. Right now he had to believe that if nothing else, his mother was looking out for Angel. He wish they'd met, long before his mother forgot who he was. His father might spend Christmas with them. His brother though….As far as he knew, Angel didn't know of his existence and he hoped to keep it that way.


	6. Chapter 6

When Angel began to stir, Foreman came and sat on the bed. "I have some of your favorite foods cooking." Angel took a whiff and smiled.

"Do I smell rice pudding? That actually sounds good right now," she said with a happy sigh, as though she'd already had a bite.

It wasn't much but Foreman was glad to see her eat something that stayed down. "Okay, rice pudding, good. Note that for the future."

Angel tentatively reached for her scalp and rubbed it a little. "Head hurt?" Foreman asked.

"No, I'm…itchy. Probably dehydrated," she said, with a guilty look. "Plus um, bald now."

"Are you feeling nice and warm in here?" He had a hint of a smile.

"Yessss, why?" She knew that smile all too well now.

Foreman said nothing as he gathered a large towel, soft blanket and a few other items she couldn't see. "This cold weather isn't helping either. With all the time you spent on your keyboard, I didn't get much of a chance to pamper you last weekend. How about a nice massage?" She loved it when his voice got low and husky like that.

"Eric, I would love to but honestly I am exhausted and—"

"No, I mean exactly that. I will give you a massage. I'm not asking for anything in return. Honestly." He had her get off the bed and put down the towel. Then he slowly undressed her, had her lie down and covered her with the blanket. Foreman turned the stereo to some soft instrumental jazz and picked up a bottle of her favorite lotion, a mix of tart lemon and relaxing lavender. He sat on the bed in the middle, shirtless.

Foreman put a bit of the lotion and warmed it between his hands, then slowly massaged her scalp, running his fingertips lightly along her silky skin. Angel purred, closing her eyes, inhaling the scent. He slowly did the length of each arm, shoulder to fingertip, eliciting little shivers when he paid attention to each finger. She willingly obeyed when he asked her to roll onto her stomach.

Being exquisitely careful on her shoulders, knowing they could cause more pain, he rubbed more lotion in slow wide circles, shoulder blades, then mid-back, then her lower back. Making sure the lotion in his hands was warm, he started massaging her ass. Angel let out a sigh and moan, arching her hips upward to meet his hands. Foreman continued the massage where they met the tops of her thighs and slightly inward, causing her to shiver head to toe and murmur his name.

"On your back, darling," he whispered in her ear, pausing to nibble it softly. She did so with a contented smile, her eyes half-closed, the color of the ocean.

This time, the lotion was not as warm as he used his fingertips to trace her nipples. She drew in a deep sharp breath, then slowly let it out when he covered each with hands that she decided were getting quite warm. He couldn't help but admire the soft glow of her skin there after being massaged.

He wrapped his hands nearly around her ribcage, very softly rubbing, but not so soft as to tickle her. He was equally delicate on her belly, especially on her scars. Her breathing quickened and she let out a disappointed whimper when he stopped at her hips.

He took one foot in his hand and massaged it, again, knowing she was ticklish there. He couldn't resist though, and nearly got kicked when she squirmed and laughed hard. Foreman resumed tenderly, stopping at the top of each thigh. He was pleased to see her cheeks with some color in them. She began arching her hips against his hands, wanting him to go further, memories of her bath massage quite vivid.

"Patience, Angel. It will be worth it, I promise," Foreman replied to her soft moans. With one hand he parted her legs. She couldn't see what he was doing but as soon as his hand touched her, Angel sighed with pleasure. His fingers were slick with a fruit-scented lubricant; slowly, too slow for her urges, he began to massage every curve and fold. She realized quickly that it was the kind that warmed with body heat, and soon, it was as though she could feel every nerve ending smoldering along with the ache in her pelvis.

He slipped a few fingers into her, causing her to gasp and grip his hand. Their fingers intertwined as he began to rub her swelling bud with his thumb. Her whimpers became full-fledged moans and cries, panting and licking her lips. Foreman leaned over and kissed her, meeting his tongue with hers, loving the feel of her moaning into his mouth. Without stopping his ministrations, his mouth went down to her breasts, flicking his tongue across the hardened taut nipples. He could tell in an instant what it was doing to Angel as she squeezed down on his fingers inside her.

Suddenly Angel felt that heat start in her feet and moving up her legs as though she were basked in the full sun. When the heat reached his hand, she couldn't hold back. "Eric, I….oh god, please don't stop." Her passion reached a fevered pitch and Angel had an orgasm like nothing she could have dreamed of.

When Angel could finally open her eyes, she couldn't help but blush. The look in his eyes after watching her climax was pleasure and love. He pulled the blanket over her, as she started to feel a little chilled, her body now covered in a fine mist of sweat. She pulled him close, wrapping her arms and legs around him, kissing his chest. "Thank you, Eric. That was…amazing. I've never felt like that before. But then again, no one has ever…." She tucked her head under his chin, blushing harder.

"I promise you it won't be the last time," he said, kissing the top of her head, inhaling all the scents of her. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to make love to her right now, but he stuck by his word. The look on her face during the massage, watching her come, and the drowsy pleased smile on her face now, it was all worth it.

"I love you, Eric Foreman," she whispered as she drifted off.

XXXXX

Angel woke, disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She heard voices in the family room through the closed door. She dressed and peeked her head out. "Hey must be nice, getting to nap all the time," called out House. She cringed, remembering suddenly about her hair, and ducked back into the room.

"Aww, come on out, I promise I won't mock you. Not while Foreman's here anyway." She smiled shyly and came out, but it was hard to look at House, and James, who was standing quietly by him.

House was smiling, but she could see the somberness in his eyes. He knew she was hurting, even if it was minor. "I think you have this G. I. Jane thing going on," he said gently, making her smile bigger.

"I get that a lot. Thanks." She welcomed a hug from Wilson. House had to reach over and rub her head. "Hey, it's not like rubbing Buddha's belly, quit it," she teased. "You don't get any wishes."

"That's the genie's lamp, duh. Feels soft. Why do you smell so…girly?" House wrinkled up his nose.

"Because I'm a girl, duh." Foreman and Wilson couldn't help smiling at their banter.

"Well, I have something for you." House handed her a baseball cap.

She turned it to the front where she read NO HAIR DAY and laughed until she had to sit down. "I am wearing this to my next chemo session! I love it House, thanks." She popped it on her head, and before he could protest, gave him a quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek.

"Gosh, if I'd known she'd kiss you, I'd have brought a gift too," Wilson sighed. "Well, we're looking forward to you coming to dinner next week. Any chance you could bring dessert?"

"Definitely. My nurse, Sadie, and I are working on name cards for the table. Cancer crafts. Saw the kids making them in pedes. Cheesy, but, cute," Angel said with a shy grin and shrugged.

"Okay well it's us, plus Remy and Chase, Taub and his wife won't be able to make it after all," Wilson said. Angel's face fell.

"We'll have to have them over then," Angel said to Foreman. "James…how is Anna doing?" The little girl had been on her mind so much lately.

Wilson looked down. "She's…holding her own. Every day is a miracle for her. But we're optimistic she will have Thanksgiving with her family." Angel reached over and held Wilson in her arms; he returned the hug gently.

House groused about his leg and his stomach, but didn't leave before giving Angel a quick hug again. Angel sat, feeling a bit worn out again. She smiled at Foreman who was smiling at her hat. "Pretty neat huh? And wow, so much warmer. How does your head not freeze?"

"Be right back," he said, making a quick trip to the bedroom. "I picked something up for you, knowing this day would come. House beat me to the punch but…" He handed her a gift bag.

First she pulled out a silk scarf that nearly matched her pajamas, black with pink roses. "Oh Eric, it's gorgeous, and so soft!" She reached into the bag and began to laugh hard. It was a hot pink knit cap, soft angora yarn, with a girly skull and crossbones on it. "So badass! I love it!" She got up and kissed him, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you," she whispered, feathering his jaw with gentle kisses.

"Hmm now to decide which to wear to dinner next week," she laughed, trying each on and modeling them for Foreman. It was the scarf that made her pause and look serious again.

"Are you okay?" He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she looked into the mirror.

"Yeah. It's just that….with the other two, I can almost pretend I still have hair. But this is so lovely; I really do adore it, Eric." She turned to kiss him again; he could see her eyes were a little teary.

"I know you do. You're…sure you don't want a wig?" Angel made a face. "Really the new ones aren't scratchy and you could be a blonde or whatever."

"Hmm. I have an idea, but I'm not telling," she said with a mischievous wink. She curled up in bed with her laptop and banished him from the room. "You'll see next week!" she called out with a laugh.


	7. Chapter 7

"Where is everyone?" House complained. "I'm hot and hungry and they're late." He sat on the couch looking grumpy.

"Chase was finishing up a late surgery, Remy is with him. Eric called to say they were on their way. No one made you wear that you know," Wilson reprimanded him while doing last minute checks on all the food cooking in the kitchen. As talented as he was, even Wilson was a bit overwhelmed orchestrating Thanksgiving dinner for six.

"Is Angel feeling okay?" House's voice changed to that of concern. "And I like my outfit. What else should I have worn on Thanksgiving?" Wilson just sighed in response, more concerned with the consistency of the mashed potatoes than engaging House.

"She's fine House. She was just getting the pies out of the oven when he called. Spent all morning on them." He smiled when the doorbell rang. "See? Told you."

Wilson wiped his hands on his apron, and went to the door. It was Foreman and Angel, but all Wilson could say was "Happy….your hair is pink!"

"Huh?" called out House, who got up and stepped over to the doorway. Even he could not suppress a smile, though he himself caused Angel and Foreman to laugh heartily.

There they stood: Angel in a hot pink wig, grinning at House, who was dressed like a pilgrim. Foreman and Wilson looked at each other, slightly amused and dazed.

"Cool," House said, nodding his approval.

"Thanks, pretty rockin' yourself," Angel replied, brushing a pink curl from her cheek.

"Um, did we miss the part about this being a costume party?" Chase asked behind them. As the door was still open, he and Hadley walked in, huge grins on their faces.

Hugs and greetings were exchanged all around. "Eric gave me the idea that I could have whatever color hair I wanted, so I hit a costume shop online, they have every color and type of wig imaginable…pirate wench, Goth—"

"How about Lady Godiva?" House asked, getting a dirty look from Foreman and Chase.

"House, behave," Hadley teased.

"I think you're mixed up-naughty and nice is Christmas. Today is Thanksgiving." House sat, resolute.

Angel came and sat beside him while Foreman took a photo, before House could scowl at the camera. "You better be nice, or no pie for you," Angel reminded him, giving his hand a friendly squeeze. He couldn't help smiling a little; the twinkle in her eye was back, even if she did look pale and tired.

"We're almost ready to eat," called Wilson from the kitchen. Angel hopped up and set out the name place holders she and Sadie had worked on—little pinecones made to look like turkeys. Chase and House were stumped at how everyone else cooed over their cuteness. Even Wilson thought they were neat.

"You are such a girl," House mocked him, garnering a glare from Angel.

"Watch it, mister, I have a hot glue gun and I know how to use it," she growled before giggling.

They sat around the table, Wilson and House on each end, so that House was flanked by Angel and Hadley. Angel timidly cleared her throat. "I…know we all differ in what we believe but…I think it would be nice for maybe a moment of silence?" Everyone murmured their agreement. Angel looked at House and took his hand; he couldn't roll his eyes, just simply nodded.

Angel thought of Connor, Eric, her cancer but her most fervent prayer was God, please let House want me to be a part of his life. She lifted her head, opened her eyes, and found House looking at her kindly. His look changed to annoyance when Wilson suggested they go around and mention what they were thankful for and asked Hadley to go first.

"Of course I'm thankful for Robert, but I'm also thankful to be here, sharing dinner with friends." Hadley smiled, with her green eyes sparkling. She squeezed Chase's hand. Now House rolled his eyes.

"We don't celebrate Thanksgiving, but I am likewise thankful for Remy, and for the skills that helped me save a person's life so he could be with his family today." He earned a kiss from Hadley for that. House grumbled something about the potatoes getting cold.

"I'm thankful to have the room to have you all here, and for my best friend, even when he dresses in costumes," Wilson grinned and raised his glass to House who gave him a hint of a smile.

"I'm thankful that Remy is with Chase so that I could be with Angel," Foreman began, making everyone laugh. "I'm also thankful to be a part of this team." House let out a long loud sigh.

Angel sat for a moment, overcome. Quietly, eyes downward, she began, "A year ago, I didn't know any of you. I'd never had dinner with friends like this, or celebrated Thanksgiving with family. I'm so grateful to be here with so many people who care about me, who love me." Everyone was silent. "And I'm thankful that Remy is dating Chase so I could have Eric." Even House grinned at her.

"I'm thankful that we can eat now!" House said, reaching for the carving knife. Angel gave him a look. "Okay okay. I'm thankful for the team we've become, especially with Angel. Even if she hasn't worked in ages," he said, with a wink in her direction. "Can we eat now?"

It wasn't hard to notice how little Angel ate. Everything smelled so heavenly but she knew she would be humiliated if she got sick. Everyone tried not to pay attention but even House looked a bit worried. Angel could feel everyone's' eyes on her, so she raised a toast to Taub and his wife. After, she closed her eyes for a moment, listening to everyone chattering and felt, for once, part of a family.

House touched her arm gently. "You okay?" His blue eyes radiated concern, but she patted his hand and smiled.

"I'm better than okay. Thank you for this." House began to protest. "I know you're going to say this was all Wilson's doing, but you didn't dress up for nothing. And, I have a little surprise for you after dinner."

His eyebrows went up. "You're going to make me wait for dessert?" She just smiled and laughed.

Wilson firmly insisted that he'd take in plates while they hung out in the family room. "Angel said she had a surprise for me," House loudly announced to everyone. Angel gave him a playful swat, her cheeks bright red.

When Wilson joined them, Angel got up her courage. "If House would so kindly allow me to use his piano, I'd like to play the only song I know that even remotely has to do with Thanksgiving." Everyone clapped, with House nodding his approval.

She sat on the bench, swallowing hard, feeling the old shake come back to her hands. Then she took a deep breath and began to play "Linus and Lucy" from Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving. The laughs and giggles encouraged her, so she really got into it. She didn't see House get up and stand next to the piano until she got to the bridge and he began playing his electric guitar with her. She looked up with a gleeful surprised smile on her face as they riffed together. They took turns with the melody, and got a standing ovation when they were done. Angel couldn't help herself; she hugged House tightly, kissing him on the cheek.

"House, play for us, please?" She gave him the smile he could not refuse. First he took off his pilgrim's cap. Then he sat and began playing a jazzy version of "Over the Meadow and Thru the Woods".

Everyone was still on their feet from the ovation. Angel stood against Foreman, his arms wrapped around her. She felt so happy, she thought her heart would burst. Angel closed her eyes, but thought it odd that the music seemed to be getting farther away, and she was feeling warm.

House happened to look over, saw the ghostly pallor as color drained from her face and her legs started to crumble. "Foreman!" he shouted. Foreman had his arms around her already but she very nearly slipped through them as she collapsed.

House snapped at everyone to back up and give her some air. "Take her to my room, let's set her up with some fluids." Foreman gently picked her up and put her on the bed. He took off her wig and loosened the top of her blouse.

When House rolled up her sleeve to do the IV, he let out a violent "What the fuck…" Her arm was covered in black and blue patches from all the IVs she'd needed. "Does that nurse know a damn thing about inserting IVs?" he hissed. "And she needs to eat more, she's too thin."

"Her veins aren't….doing too well. Even I'm having trouble with them." House snorted until he realized Foreman and the nurse weren't inept. Reluctantly he had to move to her right arm and managed to get a vein and hung a bag.

"Stay with her. I need to talk to Wilson." He looked for a moment at Angel then limped out to the other room.

House was back soon and shooed Foreman out. His nervous energy was making House irritable. House was relieved her temperature was fine and that her blood pressure wasn't too low. He was taking off the cuff when she started to come around. "Welcome back," House said quietly.

Angel sighed. "I'm so sorry House," she began.

"Oh hush. It's fine. It's you I'm worried about. Talked to Wilson. We're going to need to insert a PICC line for the rest of your treatments. Your arm looks like you've gone ten rounds with a vampire."

"What does that mean?" Her eyes were dull, muted.

"It means we're going to insert a permanent IV access that stays there. Then when it comes time for chemo, or fluids or nutrition, we just hook the connectors. But you're going to have to be diligent about keeping it clean because it increases your risk of infection. But less needle sticks, and you can have 3 bags running at once. Which you will. You're not eating enough Angel." House looked stern like he was going to scold her.

"I...I try but I just throw up. I'm really not all that hungry anymore." House just glowered at her. "I just got tired today making pies and—"

"You need to take care of yourself! Buy the damn pies next time." He noticed the hurt look on her face and touched her hand. "Look. I know this day was important. But you're more important than dessert." He paused. "I can't believe I just said that." He gave her a small smile and she let out a weak giggle.

"Maybe we can find something else to help with the nausea. I'll talk to Wilson." She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment.

Without opening her eyes, she murmured, "I'm only one month in. How am I going to do this for three more months? Knowing I'm just going to get….worse." She opened her eyes. He knew she wanted the truth but he wished he could tell her anything than that.

"I don't know Angel. But you will. We're with you." He squeezed her hand. "How's Foreman treating you?"

"Well, you know him better than I do but…he's wonderful, really." The light came back in her eyes. That was encouraging.

"Good. He's a good doctor. Not so lucky with the ladies. Screwed up pretty badly with Thirteen." He looked at her. "But he's better with you. It's good you're not alone. Being alone sucks."

Angel propped herself up and gently touched House's cheek. "House, you're not alone, you know that right?"

Her hand felt warm on his cheek. It felt nice, but he had to look away. "Sure." He swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel Angel's gaze and turned back to her, plastering a smile on his face. "Looks like you're done; are you feeling dizzy or faint?"

"No, much better now." She sat up carefully. Everything stayed in focus. House removed the IV and escorted her back to the family room, directly to the couch and ordered her to sit. Everyone had grown silent, making her feel quite awkward.

"Hey, how about dessert already?" House griped, with a private wink to Angel. But even that didn't change the somber mood. Angel realized she wasn't wearing her wig, and House could see she was about to cry. "I think those with the least amount of hair get first dibs, even if it does mean Foreman," House continued, seeing a hint of a smile on her face now.

Everyone had been expecting pies, but was tickled by what Angel had brought—mini pies, so that everyone could get a taste of each pie: pumpkin, sweet potato with a meringue topping, and chocolate pecan. No wonder she wore herself out, doing all this, House thought.

"Oh my gosh, this is way better than the local bakery," Hadley gushed. "Is there anything you're not good at Angel?"

Angel just blushed from the compliments. She declined any pie, saying there were more at home, and she'd been sampling a bit all day. House gave her a look; she couldn't quite meet his eyes. She distracted the attention away from herself by handing Wilson the DVD for the Peanuts Thanksgiving special. She did accept some sparkling cider to sip which seemed to ease her stomach.

Quietly, Foreman told her she'd have the PICC line inserted tomorrow. Her face fell, but he assured her it would be a quick procedure and she'd get to go home after. At least she'd have the weekend at home before checking back into the hospital for chemo on Monday.

Angel snuggled deeper into his arms, noticing Hadley and Chase cuddling on the other couch. Wilson was laughing at Snoopy, but she could sense the loneliness House felt, sitting beside her. She moved her hand over so it was touching his. He looked at her, surprised at first, but the gesture was not unwelcome. His eyes finally had a twinkle in them, something Angel had been searching for all evening.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chemo, Second Cycle, December_

_Despite her fears, the insertion of the PICC line had been relatively easy. She had cajoled House into doing it, telling him he was the last of the team to do a procedure on her. House pretended to complain but right now, he'd do just about anything for her. As long as no one knew. His feelings were getting harder to hide, and even Nolan during his private session tried to convince him to bring them up during Angel's sessions. Nolan had asked him what he was afraid of. Damned if he knew. Angel was just as afraid of rejection as he was._

_Angel was resting in her hospital bed after her chemo session, feeling wretched. The new anti-nausea drug was a flop, as far as she was concerned. Wilson had been on rounds that morning; she planned on asking him if there were any more to try when he came to visit._

_As if he were reading her mind, Wilson entered. "Morning, Angel. I heard chemo was still rough today despite the new meds." He sighed, rubbing her hand. "I'm sorry. We'll keep looking until we find something. Unfortunately, New Jersey is not a state that supports medical marijuana, or..."_

_Angel began laughing. "Seriously? I mean not that I've ever had any, but they use weed for chemo? Wow." Wilson smiled but an expression on his face caught her eye. "James, what's wrong?"_

_Wilson sat next to her, gently held her hand and let out a pained sigh, closing his eyes. "It's Anna." Angel felt her heart pounding. "She's dying. I didn't want to tell you until after your treatment this morning. She's asking for you."_

_Angel immediately started trying to unhook IVs, shaking, tears beginning to fall. Wilson took her hands to stop her. He carefully unhooked them from the PICC line, and got a wheelchair. At first she refused, until she went to take a step and was wobbly. Quietly, he wheeled her down to Anna's room._

_Though so tiny and fragile, like a baby bird, Anna sat up with the help of her parents and gave Angel a huge grin. "You came!" Angel gave her a soft hug and kiss. "Sorry about your hair."_

_Angel felt like she couldn't breathe. Anna was dying and yet she was showing her compassion. She tried to smile, but only tears came. Anna looked at her seriously, and wiped at her face. "You can't cry. It's okay. I'm not scared. I had a dream about Connor. He said he was waiting for me and to tell you that he loves you." Her smile was so big, Angel couldn't help but returning it._

"_You're going to like Connor," Angel said, holding Anna's hand, and then kissing it. "I am so glad we've been friends."_

"_Me too," Anna replied, looking very tired, but smile never wavering. _

_Wilson said it was time for both of them to rest. Angel hugged and kissed her again, whispering "I'll miss you," in the little girl's ear._

"_I won't be far; I'll be watching over you just like Connor does," she replied, her voice sounding so soft._

_Angel cried all the way back to the room and crawled into the bed. Even Wilson couldn't console her. She curled up in the blankets, her sobs shaking the railings so they clinked. She even declined a sedative. Angel needed to grieve this little girl who shared her name and had found a place in her heart. Helplessly, Wilson left, giving the nurse strict instructions to call him if Angel needed him._

_A few hours later, when Angel heard the code blue called over the PA system, she knew Anna was gone. She began to cry again, wanting to call Foreman but feeling so wretched she really wanted to be alone. Angel ignored the tap on her door but heard, "Hey I know you're awake in there, what…." House suddenly realized she was crying._

"_Anna died," was all Angel could say, facing away from him._

_House lowered his head, letting out a soft sigh. "So that's why Wilson wasn't at lunch."_

"_Look, House, if all you're going to do is tell me to suck it up, you can go to hell and leave me alone," she growled, her grief so raw she was lashing out for no reason. Fortunately House recognized this and sat over in the recliner while she continued to weep._

"_I'm sorry, Angel. I know you cared for her." He didn't avoid her gaze, a mixture of sorrow and rage, not for him, he knew. But he could stand the brunt of it if that's what she needed._

"_Kids shouldn't die!" she raged, slamming her fist against the metal railing. House came over, afraid she'd hurt herself, and grabbed her hand. She shoved it away, hard, making him lose his balance. He recovered and took her hand again. He could be more stubborn than Angel. _

"_No. They shouldn't. Not Anna. Not Connor. It's not right, and we sometimes can't stop it from happening." Angel looked up at him. He honestly wasn't sure what she'd do at this point, the look in her eyes was nothing he'd seen before._

_All at once, her energy was gone. Her eyes looked hollow, and she sank back into the bed pillow, keening like a wounded wild creature. The sound went right to House's heart; he had to work to take a breath and could feel a stinging in his eyes that meant threatening tears._

_House reached over her, covering her with his arms, whispering consoling words into her ear. She only looked up at him, recognized he was there when she felt a teardrop fall onto her cheek. Foreman walked in to see Angel clutching onto House for dear life, face buried in his shoulder, House tenderly rubbing her back. Foreman felt like an intruder and silently left the room. He'd just heard about Anna and was hurrying to Angel's side. _

_A part of him felt that he should be the one with her, comforting her. But he knew that House and Angel had a connection that he couldn't understand or replace. She would reach for him later, which he was sure of. He didn't feel threatened. But her needs were those for a parent, not a lover. So he would wait._

_XXXXX_

_Angel did little but weep for the rest of the day and evening. Foreman, House and Wilson each tried to comfort her. She wouldn't speak but did consent to a sedative. She was silent even through her session with Dr. Nolan, just looking down at her hands. He tried to share what he could about moving through grief but there was no telling if she even heard him. More troubling still, she refused to eat, making the PICC line more useful than they intended._

_On Wednesday, with no success of coaxing her from the debilitating crush of grief, Wilson made a tough decision._

_Angel was lying in bed, staring out the window, but not really seeing anything. There was a tap on the door that she ignored until she heard, "Excuse me, Ms. Hoffman? I'm Anna's mother, Julia."_

_Angel blinked and rolled over to look at her, shocked by her visitor. "I-I'm so sorry for your loss," she said, her voice sounding strange after so much silence. "Is there something I can do for you?"_

_Julia came over and gently took Angel's hand, a pained yet kind look on her face. "Dr. Wilson told me how hard Anna's death was on you. I came to tell you how grateful I am for all the love you gave my daughter. She drew this last week and wanted me to give it to you." _

_Angel took the colorful paper in her trembling hands. Anna had drawn her parents, and Angel, standing amongst some flowers, smiling. In the clouds above, she'd drawn herself and Connor, also smiling, with wings. Angel wiped at the tears falling down her cheeks before they fell on the drawing. She looked up at Julia, feeling her breath coming in shudders. Julia reached over and wrapped her arms around Angel. The women cried quietly together, finding an ounce of healing in sharing loss._

_House and Wilson stood outside, each letting out a relieved sigh. Angel was going to be okay._

_XXXXX_

"_You're in the arms of the angels, may you find some comfort here," Angel sang from the front of the crowded chapel. Anna's parents decided to hold a memorial at the hospital for the staff and friends who otherwise wouldn't be able to attend her funeral. When she embraced Anna's mother yesterday, Angel knew this is what she had to do. It was her way of honoring Anna's spirit, of not giving into her dark desire to crawl in bed and stay there._

_Foreman helped her to her seat, next to House. House had told himself he was there just to support Angel. His only faith was in medicine, certainly not in a deity who would rip a child from the arms of a grieving mother. He patted Angel's shoulder as she leaned against Foreman._

_When the service was done, Angel told Foreman she wanted to stay a bit longer. She went and lit two candles and returned to her seat, silent and thoughtful. When Foreman got a page, House assured he'd see her back to her room. For the first time in days, Angel's face looked peaceful as she closed her eyes, head bowed._

_She finally broke the silence. "I have to believe he's waiting for me. I can't deal with all of this if I don't believe that." Angel felt like she wasn't just talking to House but reassuring herself of her faith. House was not about to take that from her. On other days they had debated, bantered, even argued, but this was not the time or place. She needed comfort that Foreman, House and Wilson could not give her. Angel had resumed wearing the bracelet Chase had given her. If ever there was a time she needed strength it was now, when the reality of cancer's reach had stared her in the face._

"_House, I know it's ridiculously cold outside, but, I really need some air. Please?" She looked at him, weary. He nodded and got a wheelchair, taking her to her room first to get a jacket._

_House knew his leg was going to bitch at him later. It was cold. Not quite enough for snow but enough. There was nothing to look at, everything brown and empty from the frost. House wheeled her over to a bench and sat beside her. They were silent except for the sound of each rubbing their hands for warmth._

_A movement in a tree nearby caught Angel's attention, followed by the sound of wings. She let out a soft cry, alarming House at first, until he followed her line of vision. Up in the bare branches of a tree next to them were two white doves, murmured coos floating down to them. When House looked at her again, he saw her face lit up, smiling, tears shining. "It's a sign, House," she whispered. Angel blinked, the tears spilling onto her pink cheeks, and looked at House._

_House didn't believe in signs either. But the look in her eyes….it made him almost want to believe._


	9. Chapter 9

With Christmas quickly approaching, Angel was using what energy she had to work on gifts. She'd gotten Hadley's name in the Secret Santa exchange. Wilson had been in charge to avoid letting House put his name into the hat seven times, like he'd done years ago. She wanted to have gifts for House, Wilson, Maggie and Sadie as well, not to mention Foreman, and a little something for Taub and Chase, so Angel was hopping.

Funds were low, so Angel decided on mostly homemade gifts. She felt a bit guilty, but Foreman had encouraged her, saying that the love she put into them meant so much to everyone. She was on her way to Foreman's apartment, driven by Sadie, to search for a photo of his parents. Angel was planning on doing a framed drawing they could hang in the apartment.

Sadie was going to run a short errand down the block. Both had their cell phones on, in case Angel needed her. Angel waved her off and let herself into his apartment. She smiled, thinking how much her place felt like home now, how rarely Foreman came to his own place anymore.

She decided to search his desk first. Angel was leafing through some papers when she heard the ominous sound of a gun being cocked and a man's voice growling, "Don't make any sudden moves. Turn around real slow." She felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest, and her body was ice cold. She did as she was told. An African-American man, standing in the doorway to the bedroom, had the gun aimed at her.

"Please, don't hurt me," she begged, visions of a few terrifying encounters with past abusers flashing in her head. Her legs were shaking, worried she'd faint or throw up.

His own hand was shaking, and she thought of Foreman. Would she ever see him again? Would she comply and be killed anyway? "Sit down," he snarled. "Who are you?"

Angel tried to answer but her chest was hurting, worse than she'd ever felt in her life. "Please, I can't hurt you, just let me go. I don't feel well, I have cancer." Slowly she pulled her cap off, showing him her bald head. He frowned and lowered the gun but didn't take his eyes off her.

"Who are you?" He asked again, not quite so menacing.

"A-Angel. I'm Eric Foreman's girlfriend. Please, let me go, my chest hurts," Angel asked, feeling pale.

He started to walk to her, causing her to start crying, but his expression had changed. "I'm Marcus, Eric's brother, now, take it easy."

She shook her head. "Eric doesn't have a brother. Please just—"

"Call him." He ordered, pointing to the phone with the gun.

She nodded quickly, her fingers numb and tingling. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps when he answered. "Eric, I'm at your apartment. There's a man here. He says he's your brother."

Foreman could hear she was crying through her words. "Baby, calm down. I do have a brother, Marcus. I didn't tell you because he's been in prison. He's there?" She heard him mutter a curse under his breath. "I'm on my way."

There was a knock on the door, and Marcus startled, aiming the gun at the door. "Don't, please! That's probably my nurse! Please," she cried.

Taking a look at her face, he nodded and lowered the gun again. "Sadie, come in, slowly." She looked at Marcus. "I beg you, please put the gun down before someone gets hurt." He paused but then nodded and put it on the counter.

Sadie walked in, alarmed at Angel's words. Her concern turned to panic when she saw Angel. "Angel, what is it? You don't look well at all. Who's this?" Sadie was small but every inch of her bristled with protection for Angel.

"Eric's brother. We caught each other by surprise. Sadie, I don't feel well. My chest hurts," she admitted.

Sadie grabbed her bag, and ordered Angel to chew some aspirin, and called 911. Angel's blood pressure was incredibly high, her coloring ashy. Angel tried to protest, but even she knew something didn't feel right. Marcus looked equally panicked.

Angel was being put into the ambulance when Foreman arrived. He ran over to her, eyes wide, looking to Sadie for answers, who told him what she knew. He glared up at his brother but didn't say a word. He jumped into the back, holding her hand, with Sadie following in her car.

XXXXX

Wilson barged into House's office, announcing, "Angel's being brought to the ER with chest pains." He dashed off, House not far behind. It felt like forever before the sound of the rig pulled up to the doors. She was awake, but looked dusky and weak. Concerned about an infection in the PICC line, House and Wilson both barked different orders for different tests—blood tests, cardiac enzymes, the works. House glanced at Foreman and glared at Sadie when she arrived, but Angel was too disoriented to defend her.

While they waited for results, House determined she was stable to move her to the cardiac wing to get her out of the germ-infested ER. She'd have quiet and privacy. Though once in the room, everyone started trying to get answers at once.

"Just what kind of a half-rate nurse are you to let—" House began to rant

"I would never let anything happen to Angel, Dr. House," Sadie snapped back.

"And you," House whirled in on Foreman, "Just what in the hell happened?"

"My brother showed up and apparently scared her," Foreman began to shout.

"Enough!" boomed Wilson, bringing all noise and action in the room to an abrupt halt. "Can't you see what you're doing to her? Everyone OUT! That includes you, House!" Wilson's face was crimson. The heart monitor showed her pulse was way out of control. Wilson began to do carotid massage, gently telling Angel all would be okay. From outside, everyone watched as she slowly began to stabilize. Even with the oxygen mask, her coloring was still not right. She seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness.

_Gun thrust in my face….can't breathe….choking me….he's so loud…hands all over me…just want it to end…._

"I need a crash cart!" Wilson ordered, as her heart rhythm began to waver in tachycardia. "We need to get that PICC line out now!"

House did not hesitate under Wilson's command, but held his breath as her heart was shocked back into correct rhythm. Thankfully it only needed once. Seeing her so helpless, so ill, it was unnerving, even to him.

There were no more discussions until her test results came back. Angel had a mild infection, and House deduced her repeated vomiting had dislocated the PICC line, causing the tachycardia. But he was sure that whatever had happened at Foreman's apartment had affected her profoundly, even if not physically.

Sadie was sitting with her while the others sorted out exactly what had happened. Marcus had shown up at some point, driving Foreman's car, and was being given the third degree by Foreman and House. Marcus had put the gun back where he found it before coming to the hospital, and didn't mention it. As angry as his brother was with him, he had little doubt he'd use that parole violation against him and send him straight back to prison before nightfall.

"Hello, love," Sadie whispered as Angel's eyes opened, looking around the room in a daze. "You gave us a fright but you're going to be okay. Your PICC line was aggravating your heart and you have a mild infection. Dr. Wilson says everything else is just fine." She took Angel's hand and rubbed it gently. She was relieved to see a hint of a smile and a touch of color back on Angel's face.

Wilson came in and cautiously removed the oxygen mask. Her O2 sats stayed level so he put her on the canula. "How are you feeling Angel?" He took her other hand and sweetly kissed it. It wasn't often he had to raise his voice and throw his weight around but he was fiercely protective of her.

"I think okay. Everything's a little fuzzy in my head," she whispered, her voice dry. Wilson gave her a sip of water that felt heavenly. "Where is everyone?"

"Out giving Eric's brother the riot act. Though the fact you were out and about doesn't thrill me either," Wilson said with a bit of a frown.

"It's almost Christmas and I need to get some things done," she protested. "Besides, Sadie was with me. And it doesn't sound like this was because I was doing an errand," Angel countered.

Wilson sighed. "No, it probably wasn't. You just scared me nearly to death," he said, stroking her cheek.

"Hey, hands off, that's my job," said Foreman from the door. Sadie gave him room by her side.

"Sadie, James, I need to speak to Eric alone, please," Angel said, not having looked at him yet.

They cleared out, Sadie sitting outside, Wilson returning to House's office to keep Marcus in one piece. Jaw clenched, Angel began in a quiet but angry voice, "Why didn't you tell me you had a brother?"

Foreman hung his head. "Angel, he's been in prison for a long time. I was going to tell you eventually, but—"

"But what? You had to have known he was being released! I was terrified because…." Angel stopped. She knew if she told him about the gun, there would be no chance of reconciliation between the brothers. Foreman would choose her in a heartbeat. "Because I thought he was a burglar and…you know my history of being assaulted." And truth be told, even without the gun, she would have been afraid, she rationalized.

He looked at her, worried. "I know, I should have told you. I'm sorry. But you don't know the things he's done. I've only hinted at my past." Now he looked ashamed. "He's a thief, a drug addict, a liar—"

Angel cut him off. "Is he still here? I'd like to speak with him. Alone." Foreman tried to argue against it, but even in her weakened state, she was firm.

Marcus entered her room, slowly, tenaciously, like a child knowing he's in for the scolding of his life. Angel nodded at the seat next to her. Both noticed Foreman outside, standing guard, arms crossed, with a scowl on his face. As Marcus sat, Angel's face softened. She was still upset, but wanted to put Marcus at ease. He seemed bewildered by her expression.

"I think….we need to start over." Angel held her hand out. "Hi, I'm Angel, Eric's girlfriend."

Marcus looked at her hand for a second, afraid she'd strike him, before he took it gently. "I'm Marcus, Eric's brother." His voice was filled with remorse. "I'm so very sorry, I—"

"I understand and I'm going to be okay. All this," she motioned to the machines, "is not because of you. And I want you to know that I haven't said a word to anyone about the gun. I imagine you're on parole and would get into trouble. So you'd better get rid of it—"

"I….found it in a drawer at Eric's place." Angel looked at him in shock. "Which, by the way, is still his place, isn't it? I noticed there was no food, stuff cleaned out…"

"Eric's living with me, to help care for me, because of my cancer. My nurse helps while he's here at work." She fiddled with the blanket a bit, glancing at him now and then.

"I'm…sorry about your cancer. Eric's a good guy." His eyes were aimed at the floor.

"And I'm so very sorry about your mother. I wish I could have known her," Angel said kindly. "Marcus, I haven't exactly lived a perfect life. I ran away when I was 15, I was a stripper, had a son who died when he was three, and then got involved with men who severely abused me. And then I got a job here. My life started to change and I got scared. I was scared that my past would always haunt me, that everyone would judge me. I made a stupid mistake and went back to my old life and almost got killed. It was my own fear that kept me from moving forward. But once I got over that, I fell in love with your brother."

"You don't have to keep repeating your past. You can get through it. I have a wonderful psychiatrist who is helping me. You should talk to him. I know this sounds rather pushy of me….but I think you and Eric need each other. I don't have any family. It's too precious to throw away out of fear."

Marcus sat, mesmerized by how Angel seemed to know what was going through his brain. He was humbled that she wanted to help and accept him. Maybe this time….?

"Thank you. I can see why my brother loves you. I really am so sorry, Angel." His eyes were so sorrowful, it made her heart ache.

She reached out her arms and embraced him. "I forgive you, Marcus. It's over. We can move on." As they parted, she smiled and he shyly smiled back.

Foreman walked in, flabbergasted and outraged at what he saw, as his brother headed down to the cafeteria. House had asked to meet with him. "Angel…how can you…?"

"How can you not, Eric? He's your brother!" She sat there, angry again, silently stewing. Finally she turned to him and began, her voice softer.

"Eric, I know how much you love me. But every day I wonder what I did to deserve you. And sometimes I worry what will happen if I screw up. Will you cast me aside like your brother, your own blood relative? If you can love me, how can you not love him?" she implored. Foreman was silent.

"There were so many times I wanted to take the 'easy way out'. I could have turned tricks. Shoplifted. Stole money from my employers. But I didn't, as hard as it was. My life was awful and those things would have made it easier. I don't know why. Your brother made some bad mistakes. And it will take some hard work to turn his life around. I don't know if he'll do that. But doesn't he deserve a chance?"

"He's had multiple chances! He's stolen from my parents plenty of times. I couldn't do it anymore." Foreman shook his head.

"Maybe he just didn't find the right thing to help. I encouraged him to see Dr. Nolan." That didn't get a response from him. "How many chances do I get….just so I know," Angel said bitterly.

"Baby, you know that's different. You're different," Foreman said, trying to reach for her, but she pulled away.

"No, I don't know that. If my own mother could reject me as a child, who's to say you won't reject me? Is what I've done in my life really that different from Marcus?" Even Foreman was starting to believe her and said so.

"Just don't risk your heart so much you get hurt by him," he warned.

"Eric, I risked my heart for you. Loving someone means taking a risk. But isn't it worth it?" She stroked his cheek.

Foreman lowered his head for a moment then looked her in the eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I promise not to hide things from you." She pulled him to her and kissed him. The gun was in the back of her mind, but she couldn't reveal knowing about it without also telling Foreman about Marcus aiming it at her. She had to trust that both men would do what was right.


	10. Chapter 10

Wilson had the PICC line reinserted and secured. Angel's infection responded quickly to the antibiotics. She was antsy to get home and finish Christmas gifts, with barely a week to spare. Both Wilson and House gave her the riot act about doing too much; they soon had Sadie on their side, who offered to run errands in the evening for Angel. The only way she was getting out of the apartment was being escorted by one of the doctors, and in a wheelchair. No amount of pleading or pouting would convince them otherwise.

"Well, next year it's going to be different," Angel groused. House spun on her.

"What do you think we're all trying to do? Torture you? We're trying to make sure you are here next year!" House shouted, louder than Angel had heard him in a long time. She flinched, eyes wide, but was silent. He sighed, not meaning to lose his temper but she was stubborn. Reminded him of himself when he was hurt and refused to lie in a hospital bed. He was about to speak when she started softly talking.

"You're right, House. I'm sorry. I've been incredibly selfish. You, Eric, and James are doing everything you can to get me through this, and all I have been thinking about is myself." She felt awful, coming to this realization.

"Hey, it's okay. Anyone would be getting stir-crazy by now. We're just doing this for your own good." House was relieved she finally saw reason.

XXXXX

Angel came home to a sight that made her cry with joy—a small Christmas tree with tiny white lights, fully decorated, and a beautiful angel on top. Foreman told her that elves had come and set it up, as well as found all the ornaments. She laughed as she pointed to an ornament shaped like House's favorite Monster Truck, GraveDigger. "Elves, eh?"

House offered Marcus her job, temporarily, until she was well enough to come back to work full-time. At Angel's urging, Foreman gave his brother his apartment, since he really didn't live there anymore. Angel tried to include him by having him over for dinner, but she could see it would take a lot to soften the years of resentment Foreman had against his brother.

One such evening, Angel felt her pain creeping up and slipped into the bedroom to take some meds. Her bottle of vicodin was gone. Angel closed her eyes, heart sinking. She always kept it on the dresser, and knew Foreman would never move it. She felt angry with herself for leaving out in plain sight, knowing the temptation must have been too great. She looked around, just in case, but no luck.

Angel returned to the family room, like nothing was amiss. Foreman was working on his computer. "Marcus, would you help me reach a glass in the kitchen? I'm not supposed to raise my arm too high because of my IV." Marcus followed her into the kitchen, looking surprised when she stopped in front of the cabinets and looked him in the eyes.

Quietly, so Foreman wouldn't hear her, she said, "I just want you to listen. My vicodin is missing. I'm not going to go on and on about how I need my meds, how bad the pain is from my cancer. The day I met you, your brother told me not to risk my feelings on you so I wouldn't get my heart broken. Don't prove your brother right." Marcus lowered his eyes. "Now, could you please hand me that glass?" He did so. "Thank you, Marcus." She got some water and returned to the couch.

Foreman noticed she wasn't able to get comfortable on the couch after dinner. Before he and Marcus started cleaning the kitchen up, he suggested that she rest in bed. Angel agreed, and asked for a morphine shot. Her pain was becoming too severe for vicodin these days anyway. As he got her comfortable she glanced over and saw the bottle of vicodin and smiled. Angel knew she didn't need to count them. Marcus stuck his head in to bid her goodnight, looking shy and uncomfortable. But her warm smile told him things were alright between them, and he smiled back. Angel hoped this was the start of a new beginning for Marcus, and she was determined to do whatever she had to.

XXXXX

True to her words, Sadie worked like mad to help Angel do what she needed in time for the holidays. They were spending this morning wrapping when the doorbell rang. Angel gave it a curious look, not expecting anyone. Her face lit up when Sadie opened the door, and let in her guest. "Maggie!"

"Don't get up dearie," she fussed, coming over to Angel's place on the couch, giving her a hug and kiss. Maggie was distressed by how much Angel had changed in such a short time, but hid it well. "And look who else I brought," Maggie said, opening the large carrier.

Calypso didn't look around twice before hopping up on Angel's lap, purring loudly. Angel nuzzled her fur and gave her a once over. "Calypso, have you been eating too much of Maggie's food?"

"Well, no, she's expecting. Crazy cat slipped out one night, found herself a tom. And in that, Merry Christmas. I already talked to Dr. Foreman, I want you to have pick of the litter, and I'll keep the kitten till you're ready for her."

"Oh Maggie, thank you!" She kissed Calypso and gently patted her belly. "It's such a lovely gift, I can't wait."

She had Sadie hand Maggie a package with her name on it. Angel had knit a scarf in the colors of the ocean, and on the end tassels, had tied seashells they'd found that morning at the inn. "I'll make sure to keep this out of Calypso's way or she'll claim it as her own, it's so soft!"

Maggie cooked the three of them lunch. "I brought along some recipes of your favorites from your trip. I only do that for family," she said with a wink. Angel ducked her head, wiping a few happy tears. "I put up that photo of you and Dr. Foreman behind the registry desk. Looks nice. Should add the caption "Most likely to get married and honeymoon here," Maggie teased, making Angel blush and Sadie laugh.

"Sadie, you and I and Remy have to go there for a girl's weekend, that would be so much fun," Angel said with a happy sigh.

Before long, Maggie said she had to leave to start cooking for her family that was arriving tomorrow, Christmas Eve. She embraced Angel tightly. "You keep fighting sweetheart. I want you visiting very soon. And I meant what I said about family. I'm happy to have you as a part of it."

Angel gave her a tender hug and kiss on the cheek. "Maggie, you have no idea what that means to me. Merry Christmas. And you take care of yourself Calypso; I can't wait to see those kittens!"

Angel was quiet after Maggie and Calypso left, but she was happy, that Sadie could see. Sadie handed Angel a package. "Oh, Sadie, you shouldn't have!" She unwrapped a knit cap made of cashmere in shades from cream to dark raspberry. Angel had been teaching Sadie to knit. "You've definitely surpassed me—I'm not up to caps yet!"she laughed.

She handed Sadie a small box. Sadie, ever stoic, got a bit misty-eyed at the gift—an angel necklace that was engraved _Angel's nurse_. "I love it, Angel, Happy Christmas," she said as she hugged her charge tightly. Foreman would be home soon, and he'd arranged to work from home so she would have off until after Angel's next chemo session in January. "Promise to call if you need anything at all." Angel assured her she would.


	11. Chapter 11

Angel accompanied Foreman to work the next day; it was the day of the Secret Santa exchange, and she was giddy. Everyone was glad to see her in good spirits, though she was clearly thinner and paler as each week went by. They sat around the conference table, though House told Angel where she had to sit, and the team snickered a little. "Okay...what's the joke?" Taub motioned to her to look above her. There was a giant branch of mistletoe right over her. "Ha ha, very funny," Angel said with a smirk.

Foreman didn't look too pleased until he saw color in Angel's cheeks. "Ok then, I get first dibs," he said and gave Angel a long, passionate kiss until everyone in the room was blushing.

"Hey get a room," House said, rethinking his plot. Foreman and Angel came up for air and she giggled.

"What did I miss?" Wilson said, rushing in with a few packages.

"Just mushy stuff," House complained.

No one complained that Angel had technically broken the rules of the exchange. She gave Taub and Chase bags of homemade muffin mix, with a picture of a busty woman holding a tray of muffins on the front. "So you don't go into withdrawal," Angel said. Despite Foreman right there, both men invoked the power of the mistletoe and got a nice kiss on the lips from Angel. Taub blushed a deep red, which got a good-hearted laugh from Angel.

She handed Hadley her gift, the one she actually picked from the hat. Angel had been knitting up a storm—Hadley rubbed the scarf in shades of green against her cheek and wrapped it around her neck. The crystals Angel had tied on the end matched the sparkle in her eyes. "I love this, Angel, thank you," Hadley said, giving Angel a long kiss that had the guys speechless.

"Thank you," murmured Angel, blushing and looking down for a moment. If she weren't with Foreman….

The exchange continued when the men could finally speak. It was nearly done, and House acted like it was time to go join the holiday party downstairs. "Hey, what about Angel?" Foreman piped up. She was still smiling but it was a little forced. She hadn't wanted to say anything but Foreman always looked out for her.

"Oh okay I guess you might want this," House sighed in a joking tone, and slid a pale blue box with a white ribbon down the table to her. Angel and Hadley's eyes got wide. Every girl knew a box like that came from Tiffany's. Angel's fingers were shaking a bit as she undid the ribbon and slowly removed the lid of the box.

Wilson glanced over at House and was pleased to see a hint of an excited grin on his face; he was trying to hide it with his coffee mug but Wilson knew him too well.

Angel took out a silver charm bracelet, tears already brimming as she looked up at him, barely able to whisper, "Oh, House!" Everyone drew closer to see it. There was a heart on one end with a diamond, engraved, as Angel read aloud, _To Angel, Love, House_.

"It was supposed to say _From House_," he griped, but he fooled no one, as his eyes sparkled along with Angel's.

There was also an angel charm and a cane charm which made her laugh. "They say it's a candy cane but we know better," House said with a wink. Each charm had a small diamond. "It's going to be so easy buying you gifts from now on." Angel started getting up but he motioned to her to stay put.

House came over and suddenly realized the awkward situation he'd put himself in. He had to think fast; he couldn't kiss her on the lips. Not with the way he felt about her. "You know, I have a tickle in my throat and in case I'm sick—"

"That's okay House. Thank you so much, it's beautiful. I'll treasure this always." She hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which he returned. She wished she could hug him longer but with the team watching she knew he wasn't ready for that.

"I'm glad you like it." House smiled and went back to his seat. "Okay, everyone else, go party or whatever."

There were more hugs and kisses shared as the team left, knowing she and Foreman were taking a break for the holidays. Hadley admired her bracelet and gave House a curious glance. The whole team was abuzz, actually, at House's attitude and behavior towards Angel. There was no doubt how much in love she was with Foreman and he with her. But House was definitely acting more than a friend. Still, as they filed out, they thought better to keep quiet. Rile him up right before the holidays, and they'd find themselves working over New Year's Eve.

"I have something for you and James," Angel said after the rest had left. They came and sat by her. "I know it's not much," she began with a shrug. They both shushed her. Wilson opened his first and laughed—it was a silk tie, hand painted with ducks on it. He definitely took advantage of the mistletoe and gave her a kiss that made her remember their times together. Wilson looked sheepishly at Foreman.

Wilson handed Angel a small gift—it was a photo of her with House, on Thanksgiving, when they were jamming together. "Oh, this is great! It will fit on my nightstand." She gave him a kiss back, and was blushing after. She squeezed Foreman's hand to let him know this was all in fun and he finally relaxed.

Angel handed her gift to House. When he unwrapped it, he was quiet for a moment, but his eyes spoke volumes. "Angel, I….this is really great. I'm going to put it by the piano." She had sketched House and Wilson together; someone took a photo at a conference and when she saw it, Angel knew it was perfect. He gave her a tight hug and she could swear a light kiss brushed her cheek. "Now, you kids get out of here, go enjoy your holiday."

"House do you and James have plans for tonight and tomorrow? If not—" Angel began.

"Ahh we're just going to hang out at the loft. But thanks for the invite." House shooed them out, but not before Wilson nagged her about taking care of herself.

"That was really a nice gift you got for Angel, House. Much more than the agreed upon amount," Wilson commented when it was just the two of them packing up for home.

"Hmph." House avoided looking at him, but he didn't look unhappy in Wilson's opinion.

"You're really serious about this…..parenting thing aren't you? Well I have to say you're pretty good at it. She lit up when she saw that bracelet. And don't tell me that inscription was a mistake." Wilson wasn't about to let him go.

"Don't you have to go light some candles or spin a top?" House sounded gruff but he was smiling. He was getting the hang of this dad thing. Truth be told he wouldn't have minded spending the holidays with Angel, but he knew she needed some time with Foreman.

XXXXX

Foreman noticed how tired she looked, so they decided they'd just meander through the party to the front door and go home. Angel wanted to watch a bunch of Christmas movies tonight, so she was going to take a nap. He had her in a wheelchair and she was waving at the many nurses and staff who knew her. "Angel! Dr. Foreman!" They heard Cuddy call them. She was holding Rachel, looking adorable in her red holiday dress.

"Hello Dr. Cuddy, hi Rachel," Angel cooed at the toddler. Rachel reached out for Angel who just couldn't resist fussing over her. Rachel spotted the charm bracelet immediately and touched it gently with her tiny fingers.

"My, what a gorgeous bracelet! Early gift from Eric?" Cuddy asked, happy that Rachel and Angel got along.

"Actually…..it's from House," Angel said, seeing the look change on Cuddy's face from festive to befuddled.

"Well, it certainly is lovely,"Cuddy replied, her demeanor shifting towards jealousy. As though Rachel could sense it, she started to fuss. Angel handed her back. "Merry Christmas, enjoy your time off," she said with a stiff smile, and walked off to chat with a nurse.

As they stepped outside, Foreman commented, "Wow, it got cold in there real fast didn't it?"

"Eric, it's not her fault. She doesn't know what's going on. No one does. Well, maybe James. I just don't want to push House. I know how he feels; he's just not ready to say it yet. I can wait, and I can put up with the questioning looks and stares. It will be worth it," Angel said, smiling, putting Foreman's hand against her cheek. "You were certainly a good sport in there," she giggled.

"Yeah, well….I know who you are going to bed with tonight," he growled in that way that made her body shiver in a delicious way.

XXXXX

Angel was in full-blown tears by the end of "It's a Wonderful Life." Foreman watched her, absolutely clueless what to do. "Um, baby, it's a happy movie. Are you okay?" He handed her a tissue, and she laughed through her tears.

"It's my favorite Christmas movie. And it really has new meaning for me this year. Last year, no tree, no friends, no gifts, nothing. You could say I wanted to find a bridge, just like George. And now…there's so much to live for. You for one," she said, burrowing deeper into his arms and nuzzling kisses along his neck.

They turned off the television so the room was only lit by the Christmas tree. Angel continued to kiss him until…"Eric! It's snowing!" Angel's eyes reflected all the lights so they looked like they were dancing with joy. Sure enough, by the light of the moon and street lights, he could see the first flakes twirling down.

"You want to go out, don't you," he laughed. But the look on her face had changed to that of uncertainty. "What is it?"

"I-I haven't told you lately but I've started remembering bits of my past without hypnosis. After my father died, we didn't celebrate Christmas. But I loved the snow. And one night—the first snow—I slipped outside, even though I wasn't supposed to. I didn't have my coat or shoes, I was so excited. I was twirling around until I heard a laugh and the clicking of the lock on the front door….my stepfather….he locked me out and left me there." Angel's breathing became shallow and she shuddered, remembering the cold.

Foreman was horrified. "How did you survive?"

She took a deep breath. "Apparently a dog wandering around found me. The owners found the dog curled up around me. Saved my life. I woke up in the hospital. My grandfather was there. He promised he'd take care of me, that nothing bad would ever happen again. But he died. And I don't know what happened to me after that."

"Stay put," Foreman said. When he returned, he was carrying Angel's shoes. He reached behind the tree for a big box. "I was planning on giving this to you tomorrow, but I think you need this right now."

Angel opened it to find a dark magenta coat, with faux fur at the neck and sleeves. Her face beamed as she put it on, feeling the warm plush wrap around her like one of his hugs. "Eric, it's perfect," she whispered as he helped her with her shoes.

Slowly she walked hand in hand with Foreman down to the sidewalk. Angel closed her eyes, feeling the tiny flakes dampen her face. He laughed when she stuck her tongue out to taste the snow. Then, giving him an impish look, she slowly twirled, holding her hands out, feeling the snow fall on her, melting away when they touched her skin, and melting away some of the hurt from her past.

Breaths steaming, they kissed until they heard a distant church bell ring, signaling midnight. "Merry Christmas, my love," Foreman whispered into her ear. She held onto him, too emotional for words.

When they returned inside, Angel was already yawning from the day's excitement. But when she saw the mistletoe hanging over the bed, she laughed hard. "It's a coincidence, but hey, useful," Foreman said, kissing her tenderly before she slipped into some warm pajamas.

They lay in bed together, cuddled tight, out of need for warmth as well as their love. "Gosh I feel too excited to sleep, like I'm waiting for Santa," Angel giggled.

"You know, you're halfway done with chemo," Foreman said, his heart glad. "Have you thought about what you want to do then? Like, I don't know…."

She turned to him, cupping his face. "Like where I want to live? I know this started as a way to care for me, but I want more. I want you in my life. Not just now, not just in 3 months." She was serious now, hoping he felt the same.

Foreman sighed and smiled, relieved. "I am so glad to hear you say that. I wouldn't mind beyond that. Maybe….permanently?"

Angel leaned up on an elbow. "Eric Foreman, is that a proposal?" Her heart was racing.

"N-no. Unless you want it to be." They both stared up at the ceiling.

"I do want to marry you, Eric; I just don't think I'm ready yet. There's still so much we don't know about my past, so much we don't know about each other. Like….do you want children?" Angel bit her lip, listening to him breathe beside her.

"You know what Wilson said," Foreman reminded her softly.

"I know. But miracles happen. Or we could adopt, or a surrogate….Unless you don't—"

"No, I do. I see you with Rachel, or some of the kids in oncology and I know what an incredible mother you would be." Foreman took her hand and kissed it.

Angel let out a soft laugh. "Well, that's a good sign that we're compatible. And you're letting me get a cat. And you watch chick flicks with me and let me cry. Damn, Eric, why has no one snatched you up yet?" He could see her large grin before she kissed him hard, and then soothing his lips with her tongue.

He chuckled. "Guess the Good Lord knew someone else was waiting for me," he said, returning the kiss, and then running his lips down her neck, smiling when he heard her sigh.

"Thanks for waiting. I don't know what I'd do without you," she murmured sleepily. Angel began to dream of sleigh bells, of tiny hoof beats, and the flutter of angel wings with the laughter of two small happy cherubs.


	12. Chapter 12

"Merry Christmas, sleepyhead," Foreman said softly to Angel who was just starting to yawn and stretch. She opened her eyes and smiled at him; her smile grew when she saw he had breakfast on a bed tray for her.

"Oooh, I must have been a very good girl this year to get breakfast in bed," Angel said, propping her back up with pillows. He'd made hot chocolate with marshmallows and cinnamon rolls. Breakfast was usually the one meal that she could keep down, so he wanted to spoil her.

After, she bundled up in her pink robe and plopped in front of the Christmas tree, just like an excited child. Foreman couldn't help but chuckle how cute she looked when she was so excited. He offered to bundle her on the couch and hand out the gifts but she refused. She'd lived for this moment for too long. The last time she'd celebrated Christmas had been Connor's last. Angel had found his baby ornament and hung it on the tree. Foreman was moved when Angel gave him one with his birth date on it.

"But what about you? No ornament?" Angel shrugged.

"I…actually don't know my birthday. And if I had an ornament, I left it behind." Foreman hugged her tight, promising to rectify that by next Christmas. However, he did have an ornament for her.

"I love it, Eric," she said, hanging it carefully. It said _Our First Christmas_ and had two doves, all framed in a heart.

Angel gave him a silk tie and scarf of his own. Eric's gift to Angel confused her at first. It was a hot pink rubber duck. "But, um, Eric, we don't have a tub?" He leaned over and squeezed the bill of the duck—it began vibrating with a low hum. He laughed hard at how fast her jaw dropped and how red her cheeks got. "Oh. My. Gosh." Then she burst into a fit of laughter. "Don't you ever tell James or House! I'll never live this down!"

Foreman had begged Sadie to knit a scarf for Angel to match her coat, and it did. She threw it on to admire it; the apartment was a bit chilly as well.

She handed Foreman his last gift, and waited anxiously for him to open it. There was the framed sketch of his parents. He looked at it, swallowed hard, felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. "Angel, this is beautiful, thank you, it looks exactly like them." He reached over, hugging her for dear life, knowing how much love she put into this gift, and how much she respected his family.

"I do believe there is one more thing behind the tree," Foreman said with a mysterious tone in his voice. Angel reached back to find a large clasped envelope with her name on it.

She opened it to find several photographs—a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom with Jacuzzi tub, dining room, patio, family room….Angel furrowed her brow, looking at Foreman, confused. "I don't understand…Eric?" He told her to reach down to the bottom of the envelope. She pulled out two keys. Angel's eyes grew wide with shock. "Is this….are these pictures of a new apartment for us?" Foreman's wide, loving grin said it all.

Angel leaped into his arms, covering his face with kisses, and then abruptly stopped. "You picked this out without me? Can we afford it? Where is it? Oh my goodness!" Angel was quite out of breath.

"I didn't like picking it out without you, but I know this place was really too small for us. If you don't like it, I'll lose the deposit but—"

"No, no, from the pictures, I love it! I'm just….overwhelmed," she said, still sitting in his lap, trying to catch her breath.

"Yes, we can afford it—even if you don't go back to work for awhile. Or at all. And not only is it closer to the hospital, it's right near a bus stop. Oh and the reason I got time off until New Year's Day is so we can move in by then." Her eyes got huge again.

"We have to pack and move by then? Oh my gosh." Angel put her hand to her forehead, her brain clearly overwhelmed by all this.

"Well, sort of. I need your help deciding what you want to pack and where you want it so when you're back in for chemo I can finish moving stuff. We can go over today to take a look if you'd like," he began. Angel crawled off his lap and in a flash was heading to the bedroom to change. She stopped, came back and kissed him passionately.

"I love you, Eric Foreman," she said, resting her forehead against his for a moment. Then with a squeal, she was off again, leaving him chuckling.

XXXXX

She was annoyed that Foreman had insisted on her using her wheelchair but when they arrived she saw the wisdom—there was a ramp leading up to their entrance, as well as a few conventional steps right in front. They had the end unit, he told her and when they entered, she saw why he'd chosen it.

With the apartment empty and no curtains, the place was lit up with sunshine. She rose from her chair, almost afraid to breathe, it was so beautiful, so bright, so….perfect. Angel walked through every room as though she was a visitor to a sacred place, each step quiet, her movements slow and graceful, fingertips touching surfaces lightly. Her eyes glistened. She could hear someone's stereo playing carols, the laughter of some children out playing in the snow behind the building.

The front two rooms opened into the kitchen; the appliances were not new by any standard, but better than she had. The laminate floors, the color of honey, nearly glowed with the sunlight that came in 3 walls of the apartment. Angel could see through the back sliding doors the patio, piled with fresh snow. Beyond that was a wide open common area; the trees were stark and bare now, but she imagined how green and lush it would look come spring.

A guest room with a bathroom was off to the left, the master bedroom, beyond the kitchen to the right. Angel let out a happy gasp when she entered what would be their bedroom. She felt like her entire old apartment could fill this room alone. She did eye the bed, the only furniture in the place, but continued around the room. She grinned at the walk-in closet and was glad there was a smaller second closet so she wouldn't feel guilty hogging the whole thing. She finally let out a loud sensuous sigh when she walked into the bathroom.

Not only was there a shower, but a huge Jacuzzi tub, _enough for two_, she thought as she blushed. There was a stained glass window near the ceiling, two sinks and a full counter. He showed her the switch that would turn on heated lamps to warm the room. Almost in a daze, she wandered back to the bedroom.

Finally she found the words to speak. "Why is the bed the only thing they left?" Foreman couldn't hold his serious look any longer and flashed her a million-dollar grin. "That's ours? Really?"

"Try it out," he said. He didn't need to urge her twice—she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the king-sized bed, covered with a velvet and satin patchwork quilt.

"Oh, I think I have gone to Heaven," she whispered.

"It's one of those special mattresses I know you've wanted. Check out the headboard," he urged, crawling up next to her.

"A bookcase! But I only mentioned that once! You've been listening," she said, looking into his deep brown eyes. "Oh Eric, all this….are you sure?" Her brow wrinkled in worry.

He ran his fingers across her forehead then kissed it. "Baby, if I wasn't, watching you go through here would have made me sure. You really love it, don't you." She leaned over, kissing him, her hand cupping one cheek, stroking it with her thumb.

"Not as much as I love you. I…." Angel turned away for a moment, and he realized she was sobbing.

"Angel, if you don't like it, it's okay, really, you won't hurt my feelings," he comforted her, wrapping an arm around her, hand rubbing circles on her back. She swiftly turned to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, setting her cheek next to his; he could feel the hot tears against her cool skin.

"I love it. No one has ever loved me like you do, Eric. What have I done to possible deserve all this?" She looked at him, eyes red, heart beating so hard from feeling so full.

"I want to give you everything your heart desires. I want you to have all the things you were denied growing up. I want to ease all the pains you've had and are going through. And then I want to love you even more." Foreman held her hand against his chest, wishing she could feel all the love he had for her. He gently pulled her to him, kissing each lip tenderly, then fully, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She let out shuddery sighs as she pressed her body against him.

When they came apart, she was smiling. As she began to think of all the work that needed to be done, she bit her lip and he could see her brain working overtime. "We're definitely going to need curtains," she said with a sly smile on her face.

"I'll get the measurements and you order whatever you like. Then we'll decide what you want moved over here. I know it won't look lived in for awhile, but just think, in a few weeks, this will be your home," he said, hugging her tightly again.

"Our home," she stressed, giving him a quick smooch.

XXXXX

Angel was clearly exhausted when they returned. The color had left her cheeks and though she smiled, Foreman could see the dullness in her eyes. He cajoled her into taking a nap.

"But Marcus is coming over and—"

"And we can handle things. Remember what Wilson said," he said sternly. Angel nodded and accepted the morphine shot. Foreman tucked her in. "We promise not to have any fun without you." That got a smile out of her. He pulled the door shut so the sounds in the kitchen wouldn't disturb her.

Not long later, Marcus showed up with a few small packages and some red carnations for Angel. Foreman smiled, but that little voice in his head warned him to protect her from his charm. He put the flowers in a vase; he knew she'd love them and said so. Foreman showed him the drawing of their parents. Marcus admired it but guilt was clearly written on his face.

Foreman offered him appetizers while dinner was cooking. Marcus had known about the new apartment and offered what help he could in moving. Before long though, the two had run out of small talk, so Foreman turned on the stereo to some Christmas music to fill up the silence.

XXXXX

Angel awoke, drenched in sweat. She'd had a nightmare of her stepfather beating her; when she awoke, the pain remained. With labored breath, she tried to call out for Foreman, but she was so weak, only a hoarse whisper came out. Carefully, she pulled herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Everything in her view got fuzzy as her very bones screamed with agony. She tried to take some slow, deep breaths, bringing things back into focus. If she could just reach the door…

XXX

Foreman was busy with three different parts of the meal when Marcus spoke up. "Eric, did you hear something?" He was looking in the direction of the bedroom. He looked concerned.

"No, but I'm over here banging around. I'll go peek in." He slowly opened the door.

"Angel!" She was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, but tried to raise her head when he came in. Marcus stood by helplessly while his brother picked her up, like she weighed nothing and put her back in bed. "Baby, what is it?"

"It….hurts….everywhere. More morphine, please, Eric," she murmured, eyes closed.

"Angel, it's too soon," he said, apologetically, but he knew if she was asking it was horrible. She never had asked for meds so soon before.

She looked at him as though she were about to plead, to cry, but instead, bit her lip and nodded. She drew blood. Foreman took in a sharp breath and gently dabbed her lip with a cloth. "I'll call Wilson," he whispered, and asked Marcus to stay with her. Meekly, his brother stood there, unsure.

"Can I….do anything?" he asked gently. Seeing her made him remember all the years he'd missed being with his mother at the end of her life.

"Hold…my hand?" she whimpered like a child. Marcus sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. She was so cold, and though her hand wasn't small, it felt like one squeeze would snap all the bones. He covered it with his other hand and could feel it warming up. "Thank you."

She could hear Foreman conferring with Wilson and House—and trying to convince House he didn't need to come over, that he could take care of her. A spasm of electricity jolted through her and only then did she scream. Whatever Wilson had originally told Foreman was thrown out the window. He got his instructions, House said they _would_ be coming over, and Foreman returned to her. Marcus stood up for his brother to sit.

"Angel, I'm going to put you on a morphine drip, but we need to have some extra monitoring. Wilson and House are bringing that over. I can start the drip now though, hang on baby," he said as he grabbed his bag. Foreman hooked up a bag to her PICC line and added the morphine. In a few heartbeats, the agony that was gnawing on her body released its grip and she let out a relieved choking sigh.

"Eric, thank you, thank you," she mumbled as the morphine took hold. "I wanted to give you both something, the small packages under the tree." Marcus retrieved them and at her bidding, they opened them.

They had identical gifts: an old photo of themselves together, as children. "Remember what it was like when you were kids. I wish I'd had a brother or a sister. Don't throw that away," Angel said as her eyes began to flutter.

"Okay sweetheart. You just rest now. I'm going to leave the door open and check on you okay?" Foreman leaned down and tenderly kissed her forehead. Marcus had never seen him so affectionate or so worried. He couldn't help but pat Angel's hand before he followed Foreman out.

They sat at the table, gazing at the frames. Marcus smiled at the photo, but Foreman held his head in his hands. "Hey, Eric, she's going to be okay. You take really good care of her." Foreman looked up at him, eyes red, silently nodding.

"I'm just glad you heard her. I don't know what I'd do without her." He looked into his brother's eyes. "I love her Marcus. I want to marry her. But I'm so scared of losing her."

Marcus came around the table, sat by him, put his hand on his shoulder. "You are not going to lose her. She's tough. And she loves you. That's enough to make her want to fight this."

XXXXX

Normally, irate House would have banged on the front door and entered swearing loudly. But knowing how much pain she was in—hearing her scream like that, from a distance, over the phone—he wasn't even going to give Foreman hell. Not today anyway.

House and Wilson walked softly into her room. Wilson had brought the electronic equipment from PPTH—a pulse oximeter and heart monitor—to make sure the increased morphine didn't depress her breathing or heart rate too much. He also brought oxygen but as an emergency only. If her O2 sats went down too much, Foreman was to use this until help arrived.

They tried to hook up everything without waking her up, but she began to stir and smiled weakly at them. "Hi House, Merry Christmas. Hi James. More gifts I see? Neat," she giggled softly.

House sat on the bed and looked at her sternly. "I still don't like the idea of you being in this much pain and staying at home. You need to be in the hospital."

She pouted at him. "I'm okay. Just tired. Eric took me to see our new apartment." Her eyes got a hint of sparkle back.

"Yeah yeah, I get you a bracelet from Tiffany's, he has to one-up me with an apartment. He's just jealous of our relationship," House mocked, winking at her. He took her hand and rubbed it gently. She was too damn cold in this place. He'd been thrilled to hear about Foreman's plan for a new place and had even spoken to Cuddy about a raise for him. Not that Foreman needed to know _that_ part.

"James…." She began, but she had to swallow a big lump in her throat. He came to her other side and held her hand.

"What is it, gorgeous?" It killed him to see her like this. This was the only way he could bear being an oncologist—so that people like Angel could kick cancer's ass and have a life again.

"Does this pain mean…I'm getting worse? That the chemo's not working?" Her voice trembled and her body shuddered with fear, overriding the morphine.

"No, no, not at all. In fact I'm surprised your pain hasn't been worse before now. This is a tough chemo combination. But all signs, all your tests are showing it's working. This must feel like hell, but I hope that gives you some comfort." Wilson smiled, working the dimpled magic on her. She let out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry you two had to come out today. Eric's been cooking up a storm and I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you two stay for dinner?" House chuckled inwardly. _She's in pain and all she can think of is taking care of others._ It had initially annoyed him about Cameron but he grew to love it. He had to admire that because he sure as hell didn't possess that quality.

Wilson looked at Foreman, unsure. He just shrugged. "It's up to you guys. Plenty of food." House was surprised at how mellow Foreman had become since Angel came into his life.

"Only if you have a few bites, Angel. I'll keep you company. I'll even hold the barf bucket if you decide to hurl," House teased her softly. She nodded. "Groovy. I'll come wake you when it's time for dinner. Just rest now." He clicked her morphine and soon she was asleep.

The men were much more somber after they left her room. Wilson sat across from Foreman and looked at him with a frown. "Eric, I don't like saying this, but if she continues to have days like this, she's going to need to be admitted for the duration of her treatments. We'll be able to control her pain better. And she has lost far too much weight. We're halfway. I don't want something to happen that will make fighting the cancer that much harder for her."

Foreman nodded quietly. "I just don't want to break her heart. She's so excited about the new apartment. I wish you'd all seen her face," he said, smiling with the memory. But she'd gone downhill so quickly in one day and he knew Wilson was right.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chemo, Third Cycle, January_

"Well, it's been a little while since we've seen each other," Nolan greeted Angel with a smile. "How are you?"

She shifted a bit in the hospital bed. "I'm….here. Kindof a bad pain day. I've been having more of those lately." Angel tried to put on a smile but Nolan saw through it.

"Do you think you have to tough it out? Put on a brave face?"

"Well it's that or cry my eyes out…you saw me in December…" she looked down, a little ache tugging at her heart.

"Why does it have to be one or the other? No middle ground?" Angel shrugged.

"House does it." She said with another shrug. Nolan raised his eyebrows.

"So you think that because he does it, you have to as well? Your causes for pain are different; therefore your reactions may be different as well. Crying doesn't make you weak," he advised her.

Angel was silent, knowing this didn't have to do with House, knowing that Nolan knew that.

"What happened when you were younger—from what you remember—when you were hurt and crying?"

"I got ignored, screamed at, or hit. So I didn't complain." Angel squirmed in her bed. Nolan nodded, taking notes.

"And later? When you do remember?" His eyes could see through hers, just like House.

"The same," she quietly admitted.

"So. We need to find you healthy ways to express the pain. Sometimes that may be one side or the other, or it may be a shade of grey. Have you participated in any of the Cancer Wellness therapy that's here at PPTH?" Angel said she hadn't.

"Ok well there's your first assignment. When you are in pain, once the pain is under control, I want you to find some way to express that pain in a healthy way. Journal that for a week. Okay?" She nodded.

"Now, how is your relationship with Dr. Foreman?" Angel grinned and blushed, something Nolan hadn't seen in a few months.

"Christmas was wonderful. Eric found an apartment for the both of us, bigger, more accessible to my needs, closer to the hospital and bus lines. He's been moving things over this week so when I leave at the end of the week, it will be to my new home," she gushed. Nolan smiled.

"Well, that sounds like you're very positive about this change. Anything else with your relationship?"

"I met his brother. He's been in prison. They aren't close but I hope that maybe I can help them. Marcus said he'd been to see you. And…we've talked about marriage. Not any time soon," she hastily added. "But someday. When my body and head are on straight," she gave a light laugh.

"Wow, that's a lot of progress for such a short time. Do you really think you're ready for it?"

Without hesitation, Angel nodded, still beaming. "I love him. He loves me. It's just….that simple." Nolan smiled.

"Now…how's your relationship with House going?" Angel gave him a bashful smile. "I heard about the keyboard and why—good move on his part. Aversion therapy worked well?" She nodded again, smiling.

"He gave me a Tiffany's bracelet for Christmas as a part of the Secret Santa exchange. The inscription read _To Angel, Love House_. He claimed it was mean to say _From House_, but the sparkle in his eye said otherwise," she lightly giggled.

"Sounds like progress to me. You two haven't talked through it, have you." She hung her head. Nolan sighed. "You need to communicate. See where he stands, what he wants or doesn't want. You have expectations that he may or may not be able to meet and you have to decide if you can live with that. Remember that House has been through a lot of rejection, so as painfully hard as it may be, give him time. You may have to give him space when you initially begin talking about this subject." Angel nodded, seriously taking notes in her journal.

Angel's session ended as most did—with her feeling better and perplexed at the same time. Her homework seemed a breeze compared to talking to House. She had to find a way to bring it up, not just blindside him. Being stuck in the hospital during chemo didn't leave much room for privacy or life-changing talks. She envisioned a nice restaurant, or maybe sitting out by the lake, somewhere he wouldn't fear showing his emotions.

XXXXX

With some begging from Angel and Foreman, Wilson agreed to let Angel go home for one week to live in her new apartment. After that it would be a day by day situation. She had improved—perhaps the anticipation of their new place got her mind off the pain and nausea—she'd regained a little weight, her color was back in her cheeks, her vitals were checking out good. But if anything so much twitched in the wrong direction, she was coming back to PPTH, no argument, no questions asked. Angel promised.

When they got to the front door, Foreman scooped her up to carry her in. "Eric, we're not married!" she giggled, kissing him on the cheek for the romantic gesture.

"Not yet," he said, nuzzling her ear. "I just wanted this moment to be special for you. Welcome home, Angel."

As he set her on her feet, Angel couldn't help but cry. Sure there were unpacked boxes sitting around but it looked like home. Not a place to live, not just an apartment. Her things had a new life to them here, and the sunlight made her feel so warm, despite the snow covering the ground. The curtains she had ordered were hung and looked exactly as she had wanted them to. Not too feminine for Foreman's sake, but just enough color to show off her style, eclectic though it may be.

Foreman had hung up her artwork, as well as some photos from the beach. He'd even found a larger photo of Connor and hung that up. "I….hope that's okay," he said, looking at her cautiously.

"It's perfect, thank you," she said, hugging him tightly.

Her keyboard faced one of the windows looking outdoors; he'd put a couch near one of the bookcases—all for her comfort. He even put some of her sewing and knitting items in the guest room; they had decided to share it—when not being used by a guest, it would also serve as Foreman's office when he needed to work from home.

The closet was filled with her clothes, the drawers neatly organized. "I had Remy handle your lingerie. I think Taub would have had a stroke," he laughed. She grinned at the bathroom—not only were her girly things in place—again, thanks to Hadley—but Foreman had placed candles near the tub, and an ivy plant in the windowsill.

"Eric, it's wonderful. I never would have imagined being so happy with anyone like this," Angel said as she curled up in bed. He'd even placed books in the headboard. Murry, her stuffed duck, sat on top. She wasn't pleased to see all the medical equipment next to the bed, but focused instead on her nightstand, holding pictures of all her friends. Eric thought that may help keep her spirits up, to focus on those who loved her when she was feeling at her worst.

"You know," she began, tugging on his jacket, "we do need to break the place in." Her lips curled up, her eyes closed halfway, looking up at him through her lashes. She took off her coat, tossed it to the chaise lounge chair by her dresser. He slowly unwrapped her scarf. There was soon a heap of outerwear on the chair, and she scooted backwards onto the bed, then began to unbutton her blouse. It felt nicely awkward to have so much light in the room. The drapes weren't sheer but with such large windows, Angel could practically feel the sunlight on her skin.

Foreman took off his shirt and tie and quickly joined her on the bed, taking his time to kiss along her cheeks, her eyelids, her jaw line, then her mouth, which parted with an anxious moan, her tongue eager to caress his.

"You sure you feel up to this?" he whispered as his lips and teeth caught her earlobe, tongue flicking one of her sweet spots behind her ear. She shuddered.

"Yes…..slowly, gently….but yes," Angel replied, voice trembling with excitement. "Trust me, I'm looking forward to the time we can be hot and wild," she purred, making him groan with wanting as he pressed up against her.

He was inwardly concerned about how fragile she felt. They'd been close every night, clothed, unclothed, though making love wasn't always possible. He and Angel took turns giving massages and rain checks according to her pain and energy levels. But he was almost shocked how thin she was as he was on top of her, running his hands along her naked skin. Her shoulders, her ribs, her hips—the soft luscious curves gone, replaced by sharp angled bone. Foreman couldn't wait until she was well—he would tempt her with his best creations every night to help her find that healthy figure again.

When they were finally naked, the heat of their bodies radiating to other parts aching to be touched, Foreman pulled up the blankets, feeling her shiver, this time from the chill. Angel's hands roamed his body, pulling him to her, onto her, into her. But she let out a whimper and bit her lip, turning her head sharply to the side where he couldn't fully see her expression.

Foreman rolled to her side, off of her. Gently, he took her chin and turned her face to him. She was crying. Angel was in pain. He tried to sit up, but she held on fiercely. "Eric, no. I want this for you, for us. Please," she begged.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, shaking his head. Gently she kissed him.

"Eric, this may be the last time for awhile. Please," she repeated. He looked into her eyes, pooling with tears, but found no fear there. Facing each other, they slowly began moving together. She buried her face into his shoulder, breathing in gasps, grabbing tightly onto his arms. Angel arched her body against him, lacking the energy she'd previously shown. Their release was more about making love than a loud orgasm with a mind-blowing climax; their bodies remaining intertwined, Angel cried softly against him, while he kissed her and whispered how much he loved her. He rocked into her, cradling her body gently, never realizing before how lovemaking this slowly could be so sweet and healing. They spent the rest of the afternoon that way, dozing off, waking to kiss and murmur to each other, and shift into other positions but never fully letting go.

XXXXX

"Eric, will you be home soon? They're predicting a blizzard," Angel asked anxiously.

"I'm getting ready to leave in the next half hour or so. Don't worry. You've got Sadie there with you. Then I'll be glad to keep you warm," he said with a smile she could hear over the phone.

"Okay, love you hon." Angel hung up the phone and turned her attention back to the weather on TV. Sadie was gathering her things, equally fidgety.

Angel watched her for a few minutes. "Sadie, why don't you just go ahead home. Eric said he'd be here soon, and I would hate for you to get caught in this." Sadie began to protest. "I'll be fine, really. My pain level is okay. But I don't want to worry about you," she insisted, giving her a hug.

Sadie pursed her lips and then sighed. "I really shouldn't." She took a quick peek at the snowfall, how it had been steadily increasing throughout the morning.

"Please, it's okay. Plus your parents will worry." Angel gave her a knowing look. She hadn't met Sadie's parents but knew how much they cared for their only child.

Sadie relented and quickly got into her car. She hadn't traveled very far when Angel realized just how hard the snow was coming down because she couldn't see the car any longer. Her stomach gave a small lurch, wondering if she'd done the right thing. She almost thought about calling her to come back, but shook her head, laughing to herself, and telling herself how silly she was being.

That feeling in her stomach didn't go away and she found herself in the bathroom, sick and alone. With shaky legs, she got up and cleaned herself up. Angel decided she'd just curl up in bed and stick close to the bathroom. Besides, she was warmer under the quilt.

She'd almost drifted off when the phone rang. "Baby, I'm not going to be home for awhile. There was an accident on the highway due to low visibility and we're slammed. I….." He closed his eyes, feeling a lump in his throat. "I don't know if I can come home at all. By the time we're done, the storm might make getting home impossible. But you've got Sadie there—"

"Eric, I sent her home," Angel said, panic rising in her chest. "I didn't want her to get caught in the storm."

It took every ounce of restraint to not yell at her. How could she have done something so stupid? Now she was home alone, and sounding a bit ragged, if not scared. He took a deep breath and knew she had done it because of her love for Sadie.

"Eric….are you still there?" she asked quietly, knowing he must be furious with her.

"Yes. I want you to call her now and try to get her back there. Okay? I love you." He tried to gentle his tone but he cringed at the hard edge he heard.

"Okay, I love you too." Damn, he thought, she sounded like she was going to cry but she hung up before he could say more.

Angel quickly tried to call Sadie, but she couldn't reach her cell. She knew she couldn't be home yet, and didn't want to worry her parents. The panic continued to churn in her stomach and she lurched for the bathroom again.

XXXXX

House had taken one look at the weather forecast, ate a bagel and went back to bed. Wilson had left him with some meds, knowing it was probably better he stay home. House snowed in at the hospital was a sure recipe for disaster. He'd just wind up sleeping on Wilson's couch anyway.

When his pager went off, he slapped at it until it skidded off the night table and onto the floor. His cell phone soon joined in. One eye opened to glare at it, willing it to stop with that annoying "Mmm-Bop" ringtone. It went to voicemail. House rolled over, pulling the comforter up to his ears. Then the telephone began to ring incessantly. He would have ripped it from the wall if it were actually in his room.

He heard the machine come on with some goofy message Wilson recorded. House made a mental note to turn the volume off so he wouldn't hear the messages. It was turned up too loud anyway. House started to growl when he heard Foreman's voice, but as he continued talking, House sat straight up in bed.

"House, it's Foreman. I'm stuck at the hospital. Angel sent her nurse home, so she's alone at the apartment. I've called both phones and she's not answering—"

"Foreman!" House had done a marathon sprint to the phone in the kitchen, leaving his cane behind, cursing inwardly at his leg. "Is it possible the lines are down?"

"No, the machine is picking up, and she's not. I can't see ten feet out the front doors of the hospital. Cuddy won't let anyone leave. I don't know my car would make it anyway." House normally wouldn't have listened to two words before hanging up but this was about Angel, not Foreman.

"I'll try to get over there. Wilson made me put snow chains on the tires last week. With my truck I have a good chance. I'll call you when I get there." House didn't wait for an answer. He threw on some clothes, stocked his medical bag, and braced the cold to his truck in the garage. His heart thudded when he didn't think it would turn over but it coughed and the engine gave a roar.

Even House was daunted by the amount of snow, but he concentrated more on Angel and what condition he'd find her in. His heart pounded harder.

XXXXX

If House believed in God, he would have said that the deity had played a part in him getting to Angel's apartment. House couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a storm come on this viciously. Thanks to the fact he made copies of everyone's keys, he had no problem getting into the apartment.

"Angel?" House barked. The power was still on but beginning to flicker. His voice echoed back to him. House found his way back to the bedroom. "Where are you? It's House!" Nothing.

His mouth went dry when he entered the bathroom. Angel was lying near the sinks, a pool of blood around her head, her clothes covered in blood and vomit. He quickly felt for a pulse—weak, unsteady, but there.

House realized the blood was coming from a gash on her forehead. He figured she must have been trying to clean up and passed out, banging her head on the edge of the bathroom cabinet. House grabbed some towels, placing one under her head. He gently cleaned the blood off her skin and realized the cut had already stopped bleeding. It was deep and needed stitches, but it didn't look serious.

"Angel. Angel, I need you to wake up. I can't carry you," House said firmly, shaking her shoulder, patting her cheek. "Angel, wake up!" Her eyes began to flutter, and she began to cough violently. His breathing grew more rapid as he saw she was coughing up vomit. He cleaned her face off with a cool cloth, hoping that would also help revive her.

She began to mumble, so House continued to shake her and call her name. Finally after what seemed like hours, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "House? What are you doing here?"

He let out a relieved sigh, and realized then his hands were shaking. "I'm trying to get you off your bathroom floor but I need your help. You hit your head, so don't freak when you see the blood."

She nodded, but sure enough, as soon as she was upright, she crawled to the toilet and threw up again. He felt his breath catch when she let out a painful whimper. Any thoughts of yelling at her for sending home her nurse were gone. The two of them were both in for a wicked tongue lashing when this was over and Angel was okay.

When he knew she was sitting up steadily, he found her a change of clothes. He thought about offering to help but didn't want to send the wrong message. However, House stood close to the bathroom, ready to go to her aid. She called out when she was dressed, having thrown the clothes into the shower. House helped keep her steady while she cleaned up a little, rinsing with some mouthwash.

Her eyes grew wide at the gash in her head. "Don't look at it!" House ordered, not wanting her to faint again. He took her elbow and gently guided her to the bed, where he had put down a clean towel. "I need to stitch this up. I'm going to give you some morphine, and I have a little lidocaine with me, but it's going to hurt. I…..I'm sorry," his voice softened, his eyes showing every ounce of worry.

Angel put her hand on House's. "I trust you." Their eyes locked for a moment, and then House got his supplies. She smiled before he began. His eyes narrowed.

"What?" Maybe he'd given her too much morphine.

"You look nice in your glasses. Very….distinguished." He could tell she wasn't teasing.

"Oh. Thanks. Okay now hold still." House had to give her a hell of a lot of credit. She had tears streaming from her eyes, and after a few stitches, she had a quiet steady whimper, but she didn't flinch. "That's a good girl. Hang in there."

Surprised she didn't faint from the pain, he told her he was nearly done. "Thank you House. Whenever I'm in trouble, you take care of me." He could tell the morphine was taking hold of her. "Mo Chuisle."

"Huh?" House paused, needle in hand, suture taut. But Angel didn't answer. She mumbled it a few more times before her words became just garbled sounds. She was starting to sound delirious. House finished quickly, and put a bandage over the wound.

House moved to the next order of business, getting her hooked up to her IV and monitors. He didn't like the look of her oxygen levels, so he grabbed the emergency tank of O2 and gently placed the nasal canula. More alarming still were her breath sounds—through the stethoscope he heard a bit of a wheeze and a slight crackle. Thankfully they had antibiotics on hand—House got that up and running. Better to be safe in her case.

House turned the heat up in the apartment, and only then did he call Foreman, who couldn't thank House enough for getting there. They were interrupted when Cuddy grabbed the phone from his hands. "House, where are you? We are getting our butts kicked here and you're…..what? Playing video games?" She was royally pissed and normally that would turn him on but he was in no mood right now.

"No, I'm with Angel. Her nurse left before the storm," House began, really not wanting to hash this out over the phone this minute.

"And Foreman can't take care of her….why? Or even Wilson. She has two other doctors you know," Cuddy spat. Was she…jealous?

"You wouldn't let Foreman go when he asked and now it's too late. Of course if you'd like to send over transport I'd be more than happy to come in. Angel would be better off in the hospital anyway, thanks for asking," House's tone began to match hers in snarkiness.

House expected a sharp retort but instead got Foreman back, worry straining his voice. "House…how bad is she?"

"Head laceration, stitched her up. She's weak, heard a bit of a crackle in her lungs, but I've got the IV antibiotics going. Do what you have to, talk to Wilson, steal an ambulance if you have to, just—"

"House? You still there?" Foreman felt helpless.

"Uh yeah. But the power just went out. I need to go switch her IV to manual drip. You got more blankets around here?" Foreman told him which closet they were in, and said he'd call when they were on their way.

House added a few more layers to the bed and adjusted her IV's off the machine. At least the oxygen tank was manual. With the lights off, House realized just how dark it had gotten outside and listened to the howl of the storm bearing down on them. As he sat on the other side of the bed, his leg decided to let out a silent scream of its own and he began to pant and sweat despite the chill.

He'd brought his morphine, but it would knock him out and he couldn't risk being out of commission if Angel needed him. A familiar looking prescription bottle caught his eye on her dresser. Her vicodin. Quickly House looked away. He could not go down that path again. House grabbed his ibuprofen and washed a few down with some sake she had. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth travel down his throat into his belly.

"Eric?" Angel whispered. Gripping his cane until he thought his knuckles would break, he came over to her side again.

"Nope, just me, House. How are you feeling? Do you remember anything?" He reached out and felt her head. Warm. Good. The blankets were doing their job.

"Yeah, I thought I dreamed it. What's going on?" House got his pen light and took a look at her eyes. Shit. Unequal. He did a quick neuro assessment. Shit.

"Blizzard. Foreman couldn't get home, called me. You got sick and must have passed out, hit your head in the bathroom. You've got a concussion. I stitched you up, added the antibiotics, there's a bit of a crackle in your lungs. Power just went out. I'm trying to get them to send an ambulance. You're better off in a hospital right now, but you're stable, so…." House realized he'd taken her hand.

"Your hand's cold. You could….get under the covers. It's warm. Get you off your feet too," Angel said awkwardly, knowing his leg must be in a ton of pain.

House ducked his head, looked away. "I think Foreman might have a problem with that, me getting into bed with his girlfriend."

Angel bit her lip. "I think….under the circumstances, Eric would understand." House looked at her with surprise, eyebrows raised. Then he silently nodded, kicked off his tennis shoes, and crawled in under the covers. They were both quiet, the tension almost louder than the storm.

House was the first to break the silence with his usual sarcasm. "You know, we keep this up, people are going to talk."

Angel smiled—not that he could see—but added seriously, "People are already talking, House."

"What?" He leaned up on his elbow, looking at her with a frown. "Seriously? There's nothing going on between us."

She rolled to look at him, and took a deep breath. "House, you know that's not entirely true. We aren't in a romantic relationship but…..we both know that this is more than just a friendship."

"I'm your doctor and your boss, that's it," House replied quickly, rolling back to look at the ceiling.

Angel reached out and tugged his arm. "House, please, don't turn away. Don't shut me out. Dr. Nolan and I have been talking about this and—"

"Whatever psychobabble he put into your head, you can forget it. I thought you loved Foreman," House began to deflect, feeling his heart race. He knew this was the perfect opportunity to talk to her, just like Nolan had told him, but the fear of rejection was all too real. And with the blizzard outside, and her needing him, there was no way to escape.

"House, I do love Eric, very much. But I love you too….just in a different way. And you know that. The keyboard, the bracelet…..you being here right now. I know how I feel. I…..I just hope you feel the same way I do," she ended quietly, her hand still on his arm.

House moved closer to her. "What does Mo Chuisle mean?" Angel smiled a bit and ducked her head.

"It's Irish. My Mórai used to say it to me. It means….my blood. My…family." Any hint of smile was gone. Angel was dead serious and frightened to hear what House would say, and he could see it in her eyes.

"What's the word for father?" House swallowed the huge lump in his throat.

"Athair. I didn't learn it until long after he died but that is always how Mórai referred to him."

House felt her hand trembling, saw her lip quivering. "So…..when you said Mo Chuisle….did you think I was Foreman?" Slowly she shook her head no. "Your father, or grandfather?" Again, she shook her head, her eyes beginning to blink faster, with tears, he thought.

House looked back up at the ceiling. The pressure in his chest was overwhelming. He didn't know what to think except to marvel that all this time, she'd been feeling the same way.

An extremely loud shriek of wind sheared some branches from a nearby tree which slammed loudly against one of the nearby walls. Angel gasped and clutched onto House. He rolled closer, taking her in his arms. She buried her face into his chest. He could feel her heart race, her breath shuddering.

"Shhh, it's okay. Just the storm." He rubbed her back, leaning a whiskered cheek against her head. She could smell the sake on his breath, the warmth of his breath against her skin. House was silent for a few more minutes then slowly asked, "What's the word for daughter?"

Angel began to sniffle and finally said "Iníon."

"Hmm," was all House could say at first. He held her close, feeling her shaking increase, realizing she was nervous, not cold. Hell, he was nervous. Someone has to step up, might as well be me, House thought.

He cleared his throat. "So. If I were to think of you as my…..Iníon, how would you feel about it?"

Angel tilted her chin up and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I'd feel wonderful." He could feel her smile and couldn't help with a small one of his own. "But…." His breathing hitched. "Only if I could think of you as my Athair, Mo Chuisle." He relaxed, surprised by the sting of tears in his eyes beginning to form.

"I'd be okay with that, Angel," House whispered softly in her ear, hugging her closer, kissing her forehead. She let out a small laugh and then started softly weeping.

"Uh, did I say something wrong?" Had he misunderstood?

"No, House, I'm just really happy. Thank you for wanting me to be your family," she said softly, still sniffling.

"Mo Chuisle. You bet. Now get some rest. I won't leave you. I'll be right here," he promised. His mind raced at the incredible turn of events and soon he fell asleep as well.


	14. Chapter 14

House awoke, soaking in sweat. It wasn't the pain from his leg, though it hurt like a bitch. _Oh good, the power's back on and the heat too_, he thought as he tossed back his side of the covers. He was greeted by a draft of chilly air. He turned his head, confused, until he saw Angel's face.

Laying his hand on her forehead he was filled with dread—she was burning up. Worse still, she was gasping for air, like a fish out of water. House jumped up and grabbed his stethoscope. Her lungs sounded wet, breath sounds not good at all. _Fuck, aspiration pneumonia._

House grabbed his cell phone, called 911. When they explained that all emergency vehicles in the area were either responding to calls or snowed in, he hung up with an expletive. His next call was Cuddy. "I need an ambulance now or she's going to die," he barked.

"House we don't have anyone we can send, I'm sorry, I really am." He could hear her sympathy but that's not what he needed.

"Just don't tell Foreman or he'll do something stupid," House ordered before hanging up.

"House….." Angel tried to talk but wound up coughing instead.

"I'm here. Angel you've got pneumonia. You probably inhaled fluids when you passed out. Just try to relax, you've got the oxygen. I know it's hard to breathe and you have a high fever. I'm trying to get you to the hospital." He held her hand for a moment. The touch of her skin made him feel like his hand was being scorched. House was about to take her temperature but felt that even if he knew, there was little he could do. He managed to get her to swallow some fever-reducers, and took off a few blankets. If there wasn't a blizzard outside, he'd get her into the tub, but when help arrived, he didn't want her to go into shock from the temperature differences.

_Think, House, think!_

It was time to make a call to a friend.

XXXXX

"Hey in there, open up!" House shouted above the wind. He knocked on the ER back doors by slamming his cane against the ice-cold metal.

Inside, Cuddy turned, hearing House's voice. "What the hell….?"

She and a few of the staff raced to open the door. There was House, with a jet black Hummer. "Bring me a damn gurney already!" They quickly unloaded Angel and raced her to an isolated area, House right behind, shouting orders as usual. He'd already said goodbye to his friend, told him he was in his debt.

"Nah, I still owe you. And besides, you care about her, which means I care. Hope she's alright." He gave a serious nod to House before driving off.

Cuddy alerted Foreman and Wilson that House had arrived with Angel. They passed their duties to a nurse and rushed to her side. Taub was paged to inspect House's sutures.

A quick x-ray confirmed House's suspicion of aspiration pneumonia. He began to insist on being the one to tap her lungs, but Wilson could see he was on the brink of exhaustion and found him a chair. "House! You're not going to do her any good if we have to take care of you too. We'll handle it," Wilson insisted, hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eyes. He rarely saw House this rattled—but there was so much wrong with Angel, Wilson's gut tightened with anxiety as well.

Angel's breathing continued to deteriorate, and her oxygen levels were falling. Foreman sadly gave the go ahead to intubate. Wilson ordered the strongest antibiotic she could tolerate, as well as fluids. When her fever hit 105, they wrapped her in cooling blankets. Fortunately she was under sedation, Foreman rationalized, so she wouldn't be uncomfortable.

Taub gave House the thumbs up on his work—should she need more work done, he'd take care of it later. With everything going on, Taub was reluctant to mess with it, possibly introducing another infection. The labs confirmed they were treating the pneumonia with the right medication. Only then did House agree they could move her to a private room in ICU.

The room was silent except for the quiet whooshing of the ventilator and the monitors. The team gathered in her room, hearts heavy from seeing her in this state. Chase came to check her intercranial pressure and it was slightly elevated, he was sure, from the concussion. House disagreed on putting in a shunt; the risk of infection for that was too high.

The team looked to House, helplessly, waiting for him to bark orders. But he slumped in his chair, head bowed, silent. Foreman took a chair on her other side, holding her hand, whispering to her, tears choking his words. Wilson thought it best to usher out the rest, to give them some privacy. Both Chase and Taub laid hands on her, saying a silent prayer from their own faiths. Hadley gave her a kiss, the fiery skin on Angel's forehead against her lips bringing an ache to her heart. She leaned against Chase as they exited.

"House, can I get you something? Coffee? Morphine?" Not only did House look distressed, he looked like shit, and Wilson needed to keep him from being overwhelmed. House looked up at him, eyes red, and nodded, then turned back to Angel, and reached for her other hand.

"Mo Chuisle," House murmured. "Don't you leave me. Not now. Not after everything we talked about."

Foreman raised his eyes, meeting House's. "Thank you. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, House. I….have a feeling I know what you talked about. It's been weighing heavily on her mind for awhile. I think…it will help her fight," he said softly, trying to regain some composure. Angel needed him to be strong, even though he was scared to death.

"You knew? What did she say to you?" House looked at him, a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Yeah. It was after you sent the keyboard. She was grieving the loss of her father but told me…..she felt like you were her father. Angel wanted to be a part of your life, and you to be in hers. She's wanted to say something ever since you gave her the bracelet but she was scared you'd reject her." Foreman's hand stroked Angel's cheek, what he could touch with all the tubes helping her breathe.

House closed his eyes. _I should have said something sooner._ His fear of rejection seemed so small compared to what she must have felt. But he wasted all this time and now he might not get a chance to really show her….

As if reading his thoughts, Foreman spoke up. "She knew how you felt House. Angel understood why you didn't say anything outright."

Wilson returned with House's request; House paused before leaving Angel's side, giving her hand a tender squeeze. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out her bracelet. After putting it on her, he gave a grim smile, then limped over to the recliner. He took a few swigs of coffee and let out a sigh as the morphine kicked in. "She knew, Wilson. She….wants me to be her family." Wilson patted his shoulder then took a seat next to Angel.

XXXXX

Wilson noticed a colleague outside and quietly met him after shutting the door to her room. Just some routine paperwork that he signed quickly and was left alone, leaning against a pillar. It was like losing Amber all over again, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the tears at bay. Behind him, he heard a few of the ICU nurses talking.

"Yeah I heard she's a hooker. No wonder she has all these doctors sitting by her side," one snorted.

"The rumor is she was servicing Dr. House and that's why she had to be brought in. Either she's lost her touch with the cancer or he really is a stud," the other said, leaving them both to giggle.

Wilson turned to face them, furious. "You are both on suspension, effectively immediately. Gather your stuff and go home," he said with disgust. The women silently left, wide-eyed by the normally calm oncologist. He quickly sent a note to Cuddy regarding this and took a deep breath, returning to Angel's side. Foreman gave him a look which he waved off. They'd have to start dealing with the rumors soon, but not now. His first concern was Angel.

XXXXX

House changed places with Foreman the next day, figuring he needed some rest as well. He'd slept like a rock with the morphine. When Cuddy appeared at the door, Wilson motioned for House to stay put and went outside.

"Why did you suspend two of the ICU nurses?" Cuddy snapped, quietly.

Wilson sighed. "It's there on the report I sent you. Inappropriate behavior."

"What did they do?" She tried to make eye contact with House in the ICU room but Wilson blocked her.

"They were making inappropriate comments about a patient." Ever the peacemaker, Wilson hoped she'd drop it.

"House makes comments every day! I assume the patient in question is Angel." Cuddy folded her arms, frowning. "Quite frankly I don't see why you and House need to be at her bedside."

"My staff has generously taken on the majority of my patients for now. My place is here, next to my patient and friend." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"And House?" He was quickly losing his patience. "Is he having an affair with her? Is there some kind of agreement between him and Foreman?"

"Lisa, enough! She is not having an affair with House. Beyond that, you'll have to speak to House, but not now. Angel is in bad shape and House would rather spend it with her than bickering with you."

Cuddy uncrossed her arms and the expression on her face leaned towards shock. Wilson rarely, if ever, raised his voice, let alone to her. Seeing she was getting nowhere, she turned in a huff and walked off, her heels clicking loudly on the quiet ward.

He re-entered Angel's room quietly, hoping Foreman would get some sleep. He sat, rubbing his face, contemplating a nap on his couch.

"Trouble with the wicked witch?" Wilson looked up, nodded.

"There are….rumors floating around about you and Angel. Most of them consisting of a romantic nature." He sighed. "House you're going to have to say something. I know you don't care what people think but…."

"How nasty are they getting?" House asked quietly.

"I suspended two ICU nurses." House's eyebrows shot up then he looked over at Angel. His demeanor changed from worried to protective.

"Call the team for a meeting tomorrow morning. Time to nip this in the bud." House sounded so tired. But he wasn't going to let her reputation be ruined when she couldn't even defend herself.

XXXXX

House managed to see Cuddy practically sprinting to catch up with the team as they quietly filed into Angel's room. He stepped in front of her, cane barring her way. "Sorry, invitation only," he said smugly, closing and locking the door in her face. As he closed the privacy blinds, he could practically see steam coming out her ears.

"Okay then." House returned to his seat next to Angel. "There have been some rumors going around about me and Angel having a romantic relationship. This couldn't be further from the truth. And while I don't give a crap what people think of me, I do care about Angel's reputation. I would hope that none of you believe or have participated in the rumor mill. She considers you all her friends and I hope you remember that." The team stood there, curious and feeling a bit guilty for having entertained such notions.

House nervously scratched at the back of his head. "That is not to say she and I don't have a relationship and anyone can tell it is more than friendship. Angel and I have both been discussing this separately with Dr. Nolan and only during the blizzard did we finally admit it to each other." The team began to look to each other, completely confused. House was rambling. This was just not like him. Furthermore, Wilson and Foreman didn't look confused, which meant they knew what was going on.

"Uh, House are you trying to make a point? Because you lost us at 'Okay then'," Taub piped up. Of everyone he'd been the least to assume they were having an affair. Cheating on Rachel had taught him a few things, he rationalized.

The rest of the team tensed, expecting a House explosion, but he just scrunched up his face and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. The point is….she's never had a family. And I want to be her family. Like…..her dad." Almost everyone in the room was shocked into silence, gaping, eyes wide.

Hadley was the first to break the silence, moving over to House and hugging him. "I know what it's like to grow up without a mom. I'm happy for you two, House." He gave her a small smile, feeling a bit shy now that he'd actually said the words to someone other than Wilson or Nolan.

Chase shook his head in disbelief. "But you're….old…er. And she's…..not." He turned to Foreman. "You're really okay with this?"

"Look, I know that you and I didn't have fairytale childhoods. Your mother drank too much and my father could be a real son of a bitch. But neither of us grew up with fractures and broken bones courtesy of those parents either." House stared hard at Chase until the young man's expression softened in understanding. He looked back over to Foreman for a reaction.

"Yeah I'm really okay with this. When she met all of us, she seemed upbeat. But I think as we all got to know her one on one, you know how sad she was. She finally feels like she's a part of something real—friends and family who care about her. When I see her happy about something…." Foreman paused, looked at Angel, smiled and kissed her hand. "You know….she lights up a room. How could I be against her wanting House as a part of her family?"

"It's certainly not doing her harm—take a look at her monitors," Taub motioned. Not only had her temperature come down significantly, but her O2 levels were at 95% and her heart rate was strong and stable. Taub patted her hand. "That's right, hon, we're here for you. I miss you laughing, even if most of it's directed at me." He smiled and made way for his colleagues to have a turn holding and squeezing her hand, giving her encouragement.

The team began to leave, uplifted by her progress, smiling, a few, teary-eyed. Cuddy was outside, waiting with a tight half-smile forced onto her face. Wilson looked over at House. "I'll handle it," he said. House nodded his head in thanks.

"I am your boss, I do not need to be 'handled'!" Cuddy hissed as Wilson gently took her elbow and directed her away from Angel's room.

"Let's get some coffee." Seeing the bags under his eyes, she didn't protest but pursed her lips and crossed her arms again.

As they sat in a remote booth, Cuddy leaned into Wilson. "What. Is. Going. On."

Wilson knew any more deferrals and her head would explode. "Lisa, House and Angel are not having an affair. She is very much in love with Foreman. But ever since her boss tried to kill her, House has grown closer to her. He told me that I'm really the only family he has and he's tired of being alone. He's been with her as she's found out about the family she's lost in her life and he doesn't want her to be alone."

"Are you trying to tell me they're friends? I've never seen him treat you this way." She sipped the coffee, not really tasting it.

"Noooo, it's definitely not friends," Wilson said, rubbing his neck.

"Then…what? An open relationship? Is that why House arranged for Foreman to get a raise so he could pay for that new apartment?" She started tapping her toe impatiently under the table. She was used to House's games but this one had her completely befuddled.

Wilson gave her a withering stare. "House sent some of the team to her old apartment. With her cancer treatments, they found way too many toxins in there that could compromise her health and overtax a weak immune system. Plus the new place is handicapped-accessible." Lisa looked chagrined for a moment then started up again.

"What's left? What could House see in Angel that would make him do a one-eighty?" She threw up her hands.

"He sees….a daughter. Not a biological one," he added quickly seeing shock cover her face. "Could you imagine Rachel growing up without ever knowing the love of a parent? Or worse yet, being told she's the reason everyone around her died?"

"No….I can't. But this is…..crazy!" Cuddy was still blinking.

"Since when has House ever done anything normal?" Wilson said, a small smile bringing out his dimples.

"And Angel? First you, then Foreman, now House?" She was frowning again. "She has a habit of running when things get bad. It would be hard for you and Foreman, but it would devastate House. You and I know how something like that could turn ugly…." Wilson held up his hand.

"Foreman gives her what I never could. And House is something that neither of us can give her. She ran from home because she was being abused, most likely. And losing her son….plus abusive boyfriends…can you blame her? Can't you at least be happy for them? Not only is this a good thing for Angel, but this is a huge step for House. Dr. Nolan is thrilled," Wilson added.

Cuddy sighed, concern still creasing her forehead. She nodded. "If you say so, okay."

"You used to be friendly towards Angel. You've barely visited lately, or even asked how she was doing today. We're hoping to extubate later, by the way," Wilson said, mildly chastising her.

"It's just felt awkward, being kept in the dark, or having House chase me away. And with the rumors…." She shrugged.

"You're….jealous? But you have Lucas," Wilson reminded her. She looked away, embarrassed. "Lisa, if you had only waited until he got out of Mayfield…"

"And if he hadn't changed? James, how long was I supposed to wait?"

"Well, it would have been nice for you to not hook up with his friend and then throw it in his face at the conference. Because that really helped," Wilson added with thick sarcasm. The two sat there, awkwardly silent.

"Anyway, so now you know what's going on. They're not ready to say anything publicly but at least keep the rumors at bay, please?" She nodded. If only for her sanity, she'd keep the chatter about House to a minimum at the hospital.

Wilson's pager went off. He let out a huge relieved sigh and smiled as he read it. "Angel's starting to wake up. Off to help extubate." He stood, patting her shoulder. "You should come by. I know Angel will be happy to see you." He left quickly, leaving Cuddy to cool off with her coffee.


	15. Chapter 15

Angel's eyes started to flutter open, as the sedative was wearing off. The feeling of the respirator breathing for her, as well as the tube in her throat felt so odd and uncomfortable, she began to struggle. She became aware of hands trying to calm her, voices becoming clearer.

"Angel, it's okay, you're on a ventilator, don't fight it. We're going to remove it soon. Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can…."

Foreman's face came into focus, and her panic began to lessen. Weakly she squeezed his hand and saw him smile, felt him kiss her forehead. Her field of vision expanded and she realized that Wilson and House were there by her side as well. Wilson had a large grin, House looked relieved. Angel looked into his eyes, shining blue, but bloodshot. House sat, his head lowered. He shut his eyes tight, a smile forming. His heart thudded and he felt that sting in his eyes and nose, fighting back tears.

Wilson disconnected the ventilator, she was able to breathe on her own, an important milestone. The room became silent as he shut off the machine. "Okay, now, breathe out hard," Wilson told her, doing the extubation. She coughed hard, her throat feeling sore and rough after the tube was out. After putting on a nasal canula, and raising the head of her bed, he gave her some water to sip.

"Welcome back," House finally said, finally collecting himself. Angel smiled at everyone, feeling exhausted and a bit chilled.

"What happened?" Angel asked, her voice a raspy whisper.

"You got pneumonia. But you're going to be okay, thanks to House." Foreman looked up and gave a grateful nod to his boss. Angel looked up at Foreman, worry creasing her brow, and tried to apologize; the memory of that day was coming back and she felt terrible for causing him to worry. But all that came out was a wheeze and a coughing fit. Foreman helped her with some more water.

"Don't try to talk too much right now," Wilson said, patting her arm softly. "You still have a fever and some healing to do."

Angel nodded, but looked back to House. He came back over, fingering her bracelet. Angel reached for his hand, gently taking his fingers. "Mo Chuisle," House said softly, affirming that what she remembered was real and not something from a feverish dream. Her eyes blinked with a tear running down her cheek. She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes, falling asleep quickly, her energy sapped.

Wilson gave House a questioning look, but Foreman smiled. Angel had been teaching him a bit of Irish, and to see her awake and happy, he knew he'd rest better tonight.

Her periods of waking were frequent but short. One minute, there would be Hadley, checking her vitals and smiling down at her, the next, Taub, sitting by her bedside, giving her a big relieved grin.

"You have to stop scaring us like this," he said softly. Angel smiled back at him and fell back asleep before she could say more.

By the end of the day, she was becoming more alert. Wilson stood and sat on her bedside, House in a chair, just watching. "Hey gorgeous, feeling better?"

"Yes….I'm so sorry for everything—" she began before Wilson cut her off. Angel saw a look in his eyes that worried her. "James…is everything okay?" She began to tremble.

"You're fine, trust me. You're healing well, and your cancer treatment is working." Wilson could see her visibly relax. "But…I've made the decision, I'm going to admit you for the duration of the rest of your treatment."

Angel blinked a few times, then slowly asked, "I'm not sure what you mean, like until after my next chemo is over or…?"

Wilson let out a sigh. He hated doing this to her. "No. I mean until after the bone marrow transplant."

The room was silent while the gravity of it sunk in. Suddenly tears sprung to her eyes. "James, I know I screwed up! I swear, I won't go out of Sadie's sight!" Seeing this was having no effect on his expression, she kept on. "I just moved into my new apartment! You're talking about me staying here for over two months!" She felt a sob catch in her throat.

"Wilson." House finally spoke and walked over to her bedside. The look on his face was still tired but his eyes were as sharp and as menacing as a hawk's. In a low hiss, he began. "If I hadn't gotten you here when I did, I would have _watched you die_."

Angel shrunk back, eyes wide. She swallowed the lump and quickly nodded. "Okay. I'll do whatever you want."

House gave no look of approval, no sign of anything; he strode quickly to the door and left, slamming it behind him. Angel flinched, then looked to Wilson in desperation.

"James, please, go after him. Tell him I'm sorry. I….please go make sure he's okay." Wilson hesitated, then nodded and went after him.

Angel was holding back a fresh wave of tears when Foreman entered. He was concerned by the look on her face. "Baby, what's wrong?" He hugged her tight as she buried her face against him, feeling the warmth of his skin, feeling comforted for a moment by the smell of his soap.

"James wants me to be admitted….until…." She saw his eyes drop. "You know, don't you?"

"We discussed it. I know this is hard, but I agree with him. You've fought this cancer so hard—that's why the treatment is working so well. But baby, it's taking a toll on you. We'll get you set up with all your favorite things—try to think of it as a stay at a resort. I'll personally wait on you hand and foot," he said with a grin, trying to evoke one from her. It wasn't working. In fact, she turned away, biting her lip.

"After all the trouble you went through to get the apartment….and you shouldn't have to spend your nights alone," Angel began softly.

"I won't be alone…I'll be here with you," he replied, but she shook her head.

"You can't stay. You have other patients who need you, and you need to be sleeping in a real bed, not a hospital recliner or a bed in the on-call room. And I won't be able to go out with you so I don't expect you to not, you know….see anyone else…." Angel couldn't bear to look at him.

"Angel….." Foreman grew quiet, feeling a knot in his chest. "Are you saying you want to break up?"

She turned back to him with her head still lowered. "No, but I'm going to be here. I can't ask you to give up your life for the next couple of months."

Foreman sat on the bed, taking her hands. "Baby, I want to be with you. I don't want anyone else. Look at me," he said, lifting her chin. "What is this all about? If it's what happened, honey, I'm not mad."

"No, it's just that….what if I never leave the hospital? I don't want you to waste any of your life here when you could be out—"

"Being with you is never a waste. And you will get better. Wilson says you are responding exactly as hoped. Don't push me away, Angel. I know this is a setback, but it's a relatively short one. And I'll do everything I can to help. Everyone will. You know, House told the team about what you two talked about. That you want to be family." Foreman smiled, and was happy to see her pleasant expression of surprise.

"Really? He told everyone?" Her heart leaped. Maybe she hadn't completely ruined everything by making him angry.

"Yeah, really. Unfortunately there are some rumors flying around and he wanted them stopped." Angel looked chagrined. "Hey, don't worry about it. Wilson talked to Cuddy too. House was waiting to say more to other people until he talked to you. He wanted you to have a say in it." That brought a small smile to her face.

Foreman's pager went off, and she shooed him out, promising they'd talk more later. Her head was trying to catch up to everything that had just happened when there was a quiet tap on the door. House.

"Mind if I come in?" His voice was gentler, his expression more relaxed. Angel nodded. He sat next to the bed.

"House, I—"

"Angel, I—" Both spoke at once then stopped. House nodded in deference to her.

"House, I'm so sorry, what I put you through. I didn't mean to be so selfish. I had to watch Connor die, the worst moment of my life and then what do I do? I almost made you do the same thing after asking you to be my father. Please forgive me," Angel said, softly, tears springing to her eyes.

House reached out, touching her cheek. She looked at him in surprise. She hadn't expected him to be so forgiving. "It's okay. I'm…..sorry for being so hard on you. Nothing to forgive. The important thing is you're okay, and we're going to make sure you stay that way." He gave her a small smile, then leaned back in his chair. She looked relieved to a point, but…

"Everything okay with Foreman?" Bingo. Her eyes lowered again and she looked away. He frowned. "Is he angry?"

"No, no. Eric is being wonderful. It's just….I wonder how long he can put up with me being here for so long. I can't expect him to put his life on hold. I certainly don't deserve that." Her voice got low.

House snorted. "Foreman is damn lucky to have you. He's not the easiest person to put up with. And yes, you do deserve to have someone to love you and treat you well."

"Do I? I'm not so sure anymore….people don't always get what they deserve." The two of them sat quietly. House didn't know how to respond because deep down, he felt like that too. Good people had terrible things happen to them. Bad people didn't always get punished. Life was random.

Angel let out a deep sigh, and shivered a little, as if trying to shake off her darkening mood. "House, tell me, how did we get here? I don't remember anything except how bad the storm was getting."

House leaned forward, winked and grinned. "I just called in a favor. My friend has a sweet Hummer. Not even a badass blizzard can slow him down."

Angel's grin soon matched his. "You didn't!" She let out a giggle. "I'll have to thank him sometime. Have him over for dinner." House inwardly chuckled at the idea of Angel, hosting the Mafia for dinner.

"It would seem you have more visitors," House said, with a distinct change in his voice. Angel looked—it was Wilson with Cuddy. She glanced House's way. He seemed bent on ignoring his boss as much as possible.

"Dr. Cuddy, it's so good to see you," Angel said, as she walked into the room. She genuinely meant it, even knowing the awkwardness that had settled. "How's Rachel?"

Cuddy gave her a warm smile, eyes flitting towards House for a moment. "She's doing well, starting to talk up a storm."

Angel bit her lip, but dared it. "And Lucas?" The proverbial elephant. Though her loyalties were with House, she knew diplomacy was important with Cuddy.

Taken aback, Cuddy nodded with a faint smile. "He's doing well, thank you." The awkward pause returned for a moment. "You're looking much better. I understand they're going to move you out of ICU today to a regular room, that's wonderful."

Angel nodded, thinking, _more like my cell for the next two months_, but just smiled, unwilling to bring back House's ire. A yawn escaped before she could stop it. It truly had nothing to do with Cuddy; the exhaustion would hit her like a truck at any given moment.

"Well, you need your rest." Cuddy began to turn, then looked back at her. "I understand there are rumors floating about. If anyone says or does anything inappropriate, please let me know and I'll handle it personally."

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to cause trouble for House or the hospital," Angel said, eyes filled with worry.

"Don't give it another thought. Everything is going to be alright," Cuddy assured her, astounded she was worried about _House's_ reputation!

Wilson and Cuddy had no sooner opened the door when Sadie arrived, looking quite the worse for wear—teary eyed and frantic. "May I go in?" she asked timidly. Wilson gave her the go-ahead.

Angel was beaming to see her nurse and friend, then alarmed to see how upset she was. Sadie hugged her, crying softly against her shoulder. Angel rubbed her back, shushing her, telling her she was okay.

Out in the hallway, Wilson leaned to Cuddy, saying, "Now, does that look like someone who's going to cut ties with family and friends and run?"

Cuddy gave him a withering smile. "Gloating doesn't become you, James."

"I never should have left you that day! How can you forgive me?" Sadie could barely make eye contact.

Angel rubbed her cheek. "Nothing to forgive. I told you to go home. But I'm okay. I'm getting moved out of ICU today," she said, trying to get a smile out of her. "I assume you've heard about my new accommodations."

Sadie nodded. "Dr. Foreman told me. He said it wasn't my fault but—"

Angel took her hand, holding it firm. "It's not your fault. It has nothing to do with you. My body…." Angel started choking up. "My body isn't strong enough to do everything now. But…I'm going to miss you horribly." Tears started down her cheeks, which set Sadie off as well.

"You know I will come and visit, I promise." Sadie composed herself before leaving, but Angel was still visibly upset when she left.

"Hey," House said softly. She turned to him. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. You okay?"

Angel shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice." House began to roll his eyes but then saw the look on her face. "House, what if…what if I never leave? What if—"

"Is this what it's about? You're afraid you'll….." The unspoken word hung heavy in the room. She nodded and she had fear in her eyes.

"We have no reason to think that. You're here and you're responding just like Wilson hoped to the medications. The staff here is excellent, you know that," House reminded her.

Angel bit her lip and shook her head slightly. "Please. I don't need you to be my doctor right now." She swallowed hard as his eyes widened.

So this was what parenting was all about. Deciphering what she said and trying to figure out what the hell she needed. And he was flailing. Medicine, statistics—those things he excelled at. Comforting, not so much.

This called for more than a hand hold. She was afraid of dying and to tell the truth, so was he. Angel had beaten the overwhelming odds on the pneumonia and there was still the incredibly risky transplant left.

House dimmed the lights. "Scoot over." Well, at least that brought a hint of a smile to her lips. He wasn't graceful, but he managed to get into the hospital bed with her without falling off. Awkwardly, he put his arms around her and rubbed circles on her back with his roughened hands. She felt so small and fragile now that she was in a hospital gown. "Is this better?" he asked hesitantly. Angel nodded, letting out a shuddering sigh.

"I don't know what's going to happen. But you're not alone. Try to hang onto that," House said, his voice sounding gruff. But it wasn't from his usual demeanor. The gravity of the situation and his newfound feelings and responsibility over Angel brought a wave of emotion. And it scared him.

XXXXX

Wilson found House in his office on the phone. He was about to step out for privacy until he heard House speak. "Stacy, hi, it's Greg. I…..need some legal help…No, I'm not calling you from jail…No, I'm not being sued. Look, it would just be easier to deal with this in person." House scribbled some stuff on a scrap of paper. "Thanks. See you then." House hung up, swiveled his chair to look at Wilson, staring at him in shock.

"Stacy? You called Stacy? What are you up to, House?" Wilson gave him a suspicious stare. Before House could reply, Lucas walked in. Wilson shook his head in silence, baffled.

Lucas tossed a sealed folder onto his desk marked CONFIDENTIAL. "Hey Wilson. Here's that info you wanted. Took some serious digging, but I think there's enough info." He paused, hands in pockets, oblivious to the awkward silence. When House gave him an empty stare, Lucas grinned. "That information doesn't come cheap. Pony up," Lucas said, holding out his hand.

House began to make an excuse, but Lucas cut him short, leaning on his desk, looking down at House. "Look, House, you wanted this info on Angel ASAP. I got it, and Valentine's Day is coming up. I've got bills to pay."

House sighed, got out his checkbook and quickly handed one to him. "Getting your girlfriend a diamond dog collar?"

Lucas let out a snort. "Something like that. Thanks House, nice doing business with you." He paused at the door. "Hey, for what it's worth….that info is pretty brutal. If anyone did that to Rachel, I'd….." A flash of anger lit up in his eyes. House looked at him, nodded. "See you later House. Wilson." Lucas nodded and left.

"Okay, first Stacy, then Lucas. What are you up to House?" House gave Wilson a nervous smile.

"Stacy….I want her legal advice on some….things. Lucas, as you heard, was looking up information on Angel. Soon, this whole cancer thing will be behind her, and she's going to want more on her past." House held up the weighty envelope but didn't open it. He tossed it back on his desk. Right now he didn't think he could stomach it.

"So, what's up?" House asked, kicking his feet up on his desk.

"Funny thing. Somehow my mail got into Nora's mailbox. She gave me a call today and invited me for dinner tonight. I guess enough time has passed she's decided to give me another chance." Wilson stared at House, scrutinizing his response. House only looked mildly surprised. "Your mail was where it should be. Know anything about that?"

"Me? No clue. Enjoy your dinner." Wilson could have sworn he saw a glimmer of a smile cross House's lips and a twinkle in his eye.

"You're not planning on interfering are you?" Wilson narrowed his eyes, trying to discern House's motive.

"Nope. I've got enough to deal with around here. See ya Wilson."

XXXXX

As comforted as she had been by House, and as glad as she was to be moving from ICU, Angel still felt this darkness hanging over her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that at any moment, everything and everyone she cared about could be gone in a flash. She tried to smile as Foreman and Wilson wheeled her gurney towards her new room. House had slipped out at some point while she'd slept.

She was not prepared for what they had set up for her. As they pushed her bed into the double room, Angel's eyes filled with tears, her hands covering her mouth in surprise. The team was there to greet her with huge smiles. But more than that, they had created a haven for her—a computer desk with her laptop; a shelf filled with books, music and movies; a large plant plus a giant vase of flowers, as well as a fishbowl with a betta; her stuffed duck and quilt; a closet of her favorite comfy clothes; and a dresser with all her favorite photos on it.

House was standing amongst them. "Welcome to your home away from home," he said seriously, but with a smile in his eyes. Angel didn't know who to hug first, as she wiped away the tears.

The team left after a page on their latest case. Wilson and House slipped out while Foreman and Angel were locked in embrace. They laughed when they parted to see they were alone.

"Does this help a bit?" Foreman asked, arms wrapped around her, kissing her gently.

"This….is amazing, Eric." She smiled for real this time, returning his kiss. She eyed the other bed. "Am I going to have a roommate?"

"No, that's for when I sleep over," he said with a mischievous wink.

"But Eric, we talked about this….your patients….." Angel put on a stern face.

"And I agree. For the most part. But for the nights I do sleep here, this way I can push the beds together…." He grinned at her blush. "Hey, being a doctor here has its perks."

Foreman helped her out of bed to walk around her new room. She smiled at the beautiful fish, shades of blue and purple. Next to it was a photo album. "Calypso had her kittens!" Angel gasped, quickly flipping through, heart melting at each adorable furball.

"Maggie said to pick the one you want, though she and I guessed which one you'd choose," Foreman said, Angel looking at him with a quizzical expression. Then she reached the last page. There was a kitten, shades of mocha and chocolate, with a smudge on her chest that looked just like a heart, eyes green as emeralds.

"Oh, she's the one, isn't she?" Foreman nodded. "She's perfect!"

"Maggie said I can bring her home in a few weeks. I thought maybe it would help her get used to the apartment and keep me company when I'm home at night." Angel's face fell a bit. "Hey, don't be sad, baby. Maybe I can sneak her in." That brought a grin back to her face. "Now you just have to name her."

Angel settled back into bed, tired but happier. Wilson had told her she couldn't leave her room without one of them and a wheelchair, a mask if she went anywhere else in the hospital but the oncology floor. Guests had to wear masks as well. This room made all of that seem so much more tolerable.

"I think I want to name her Emma…for her emerald green eyes," Angel said, yawning, trying so hard to stay awake. Foreman stroked her face, then bent down for a tender kiss.

"I like it." Foreman let out a sigh, his face changing. She realized night was quickly falling. "I…..have to check on a patient before I go. I hate leaving you here," he said, his brown eyes meeting hers.

"I know," she said, trying to put on a brave face but failing. "I love you Eric. Sweet dreams."

"I love you too, Angel. Call me if you need anything." With a final long kiss, he left. The room was too quiet.

She woke up later that night, sweating, in a sheer panic. It took Angel a minute to get her bearings, then a few minutes to assure the night nurses she was okay, despite the monitor's alarms. Angel realized how desperately she wanted to see a familiar face to comfort her. The nurses were kind, sympathetic even, but she was just another patient, another bed to tend to. After resetting the machines and taking her vitals, they were on their way. No smiles, no joking, no hand-holding.

Angel sank back into the bed with a shiver, the dream all too real.

_She was in the same alley she'd woken up in when she was 15. She was cold, hungry, weak. Her friends and loved ones, gone. She started for the opening when a large menacing man blocked her way. She couldn't see his face, he was a hulking dark shadow. But he laughed as he approached her. She tried to scream but her voice was silent, throat raw. He reached for her….._

Angel shuddered again, remembering it. She couldn't remember what he was doing to her, but she was thankful she'd woken up. As to the man, she could only assume it was her stepfather. She reached over to the nightstand and put on her mp3 player. The music was soothing but it still took some time for her to relax and get back to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

_Chemo, Fourth Cycle, February_

"One more day," Angel kept chanting to herself as she huddled over the toilet bowl for the umpteenth time that morning. Just as she thought she could pull herself up with the walker and clean up, another wave would hit her. The nurse who had brought another injection of anti-emetics stood by.

"I'm fine, if that shot doesn't work, I've hit my limit," Angel wearily said. The nurse hesitated. "I said, I'm okay." Looking up at the nurse towering over her raised her ire. "Get the fuck out!" Angel almost winced at her temper, but she had to throw up again.

Angel was back on her feet, trying to clean up when she heard a knock and a familiar voice. "Angel? You okay in there?"

Angel shuffled out, not even attempting to smile at Wilson. "Sure, fine, dandy." Wilson frowned.

"That bad today? The nurse said you've already maxed out on the meds. I'm sorry." He helped her back into bed. The nurse had conveyed Angel's mood as well. "Angel, I'm…concerned."

Angel paled. Her hands were shaking but lately they shook all the time. "Is it the cancer?"

"No, it's just that….how have you been feeling? Not physically I mean." He looked at her, taking her hand, hating that it felt like a woman's three times her age from the weight loss and medicine.

Angel shrugged. "Aside from worrying about the cancer?"

"You know, it's not uncommon for cancer patients to get depressed. And you've been through so much, and the latest restrictions…" Angel's jaw clenched.

"I'm fine. I'm already on meds, I see Dr. Nolan." Angel began to bristle.

"I know, and that's all very good. But maybe trying the support group would help too." Wilson gave her one of his charming smiles which she couldn't help but smile a little in return.

"Okay, I'll try it. Happy?" Wilson hugged her. He told her there was a meeting that afternoon. She promised to go.

XXXXX

Angel sat and though she shared cancer in common with the group—mostly women—she wore her pink skull knit cap and huddled a bit to herself. She saw the same pale faces, the same dark-ringed eyes looking back at her, the same weary glances but still….

"We have a new member to our group, say hello to Angel," said the facilitator. She'd had cancer but looked in good health now. After a few murmurs, Angel put on a half-smile and waved briefly, then cast her eyes downward.

"Would you like to say a few words?" Inwardly she cringed but nodded.

"Hi, I have multiple myeloma. I'm on my fourth round of chemo, my last day is tomorrow." A few women smiled and nodded, giving her some encouragement. "I still have to have a bone marrow transplant."

"Thank you Angel, and good luck on your last day. Today we're going to discuss how our cancer and treatment have affected not only us, but our family and friends. We know the toll it takes on our bodies, but it can also strain relationships because roles may reverse, or it may cause fear, even anger, just as it does in us." Angel felt her chest tighten as everyone began to share about their spouses, family, children, etc. When the leader turned to her, Angel's mouth went dry.

"And how has this affected you with your family? Anything you'd care to share?" _No_, she thought, but she'd promised James she'd try the group.

"I, um, don't have any family." She felt all eyes on her, making her face hot. "My boyfriend moved in with me to help at night when the nurse wasn't with me. But it worked okay until I got sick. I'm staying here in the hospital until after my treatment is over." A few women traded glances, making her feeling worse.

"What about children, or….?" Another member asked.

"I had a son, but he died years ago. And most of my friends are doctors here, so they're handing this okay." Angel began to grip the arms of her chair, afraid the questions would continue, but mercifully they stopped. By break, she thought perhaps she might be able to make it all the way through until she heard a few patients gossiping.

"Oh you're so lucky, you have that adorable Dr. Wilson! I hear he has a thing for his patients, if you know what I mean," she giggled. "I wonder if his in-bed manner is just as hot as his bedside manner," she finished, leaving them both to laugh again. They caught Angel looking at them and eyed her curiously, then turned away, shutting her out.

Angel took her walker and left, getting back to her room before the tears sprang to her eyes. Even with cancer, she didn't fit in. No family. Most of her friends, doctors, one a former, another a current lover. What would they think if they knew about her and Wilson?

She knew he would be disappointed in her not sticking with it. But being around too many people made her feel jumpy. And now that she was here all the time, she'd expected the team to pop in more often, but that was not the case. With all the people at PPTH, she felt more alone than before. She knew she was being silly—they were doctors, they had jobs. But she missed them.

XXXXX

The chemo nurses, Wilson, House and Foreman were there to celebrate Angel's last chemo session. She wound up being sick for most of it, but didn't really crave any of the cake they'd brought to her room. Angel put on a smile, but Wilson caught her eye as the rest left her room. Her eyes quickly darted away, but it was too late. He came and sat on her bed.

"Is everything okay? Debbie said you left the meeting early yesterday." He touched her hand, and she looked up at him.

"I….just wasn't feeling well," she said, but even she didn't believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"You're a terrible liar, you know that," Wilson teased, chuckling softly. "Seriously. What happened?"

Angel began to tell him about the topic of the session, and the rumor mill about him, and before she knew it, she was crying, her breath coming in deep gulps. Wilson's face changed to concerned, and began dabbing her tears with a tissue. Angel reached for him, and he held her. The loneliness and fear seemed to melt away as she huddled there, all the while, Wilson rubbing her back and kissing her cheek.

"I just feel so alone. No family…." She tilted her chin up to look at him, eyes bright with the tears.

"But you have so many people who care about you, who love you. House, Foreman, me…" Wilson began, looking down at her. He forgot how good she felt to hold, and though she was so very ill, there was still a beauty in those eyes of hers.

Angel felt her breath quicken, her heart begin to pound, recognizing the look in his eyes. Wilson leaned ever closer and she closed her eyes as his lips caressed hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking his hair on the nape, letting out a little whimper. Wilson answered with a deep, soft moan. It was only when they heard the door open that they pulled apart in shock.

Wilson whipped around, cheeks already flushed bright red. It was Chase. His look of surprise changed to disgust as he turned and left the room.

Angel pressed her hand to her mouth in dismay, fresh tears stinging her eyes. "James, you have to talk to him, please!" Wordless, he nodded his head in a daze, and left.

Angel squeezed her eyes shut, willing that all this had been a dream, nothing more. She was going to lose Eric. And what would House think? Would Wilson be too uncomfortable to be her doctor any more? Any attempt to block all this out was cut short by her urgent need to vomit. One of the floor nurses helped her clean up. Angel insisted she wanted to rest, no visitors. The lights were dimmed, the privacy blinds closed.

She curled under the blankets, feeling oddly cold, almost shivering. That set off another wave of nausea. By now, all that came up was bile, that horrible green color like antifreeze. She was lucky to keep anything down by mouth anymore. The next round that hit scared her to death.

Angel was vomiting blood, and plenty of it. She began seeing black spots floating around in her vision, as the room tilted violently. Her peripheral vision grew dark as she lunged for the emergency cord in the bathroom. The feeling of the cold tile floor on her face was the only thing keeping her conscious as the nurses rushed in, yelling orders for doctors to be paged.

One of the orderlies got her back in bed, on her side, so she wouldn't aspirate. They lowered the head—her blood pressure was low and sinking lower by the minute. She was only remotely aware that Wilson and House had rushed in, but she couldn't respond to them. She caught one more glimpse of House's face before everything went dark.

XXXXX

"Get her in the OR Stat!" House snarled, barking for Chase to get his ass in there. Wilson cringed as Chase passed by.

"You should page Foreman," he said curtly. Wilson nodded and headed to the gallery.

After sedating her, Chase inserted the endoscope, looking carefully for the source of the bleeding. It wasn't long before they found bleeding ulcerations in her esophagus and stomach; with so much vomiting, the acid was doing a number on her GI system. The bleeds were quickly cauterized, and they watched and waited. Slowly but surely her blood pressure began to rise; House had them infuse blood as she was already anemic.

When it appeared she was stable, she was moved to recovery where a very anxious Foreman met them. He cradled her hand in his, whispering in her ear. Chase again exchanged looks with Wilson. This time, it caught House's attention. With a glare at Chase, and a raised eyebrow for Wilson, he took his friend's elbow and walked down to his office.

"What's with the looks between you and Chase? You make a move on Thirteen?" House smirked. But when Wilson didn't reply, and only rubbed his neck, House's humor went right out the window. "Wilson. What did you do?"

After a few babbling words which only made House scrunch up his eyebrows further, Wilson took a deep breath. "I kissed Angel and Chase saw us."

"You _what_?" House bellowed. "Wilson, what in the hell gave you that idea? Do you know what Foreman will do to you? And I can't do anything to Foreman because Angel loves him. Jesus Christ, Wilson!" House flopped down in his chair, rolling his eyes. "What, Nora just not enough woman for you?"

Wilson squirmed, looking baleful. "She was really upset. It started out just as a hug, really, and she looked up at me with those blue eyes of hers and…." Wilson let out a long sigh.

"And that's all that happened, right?" House pinched the bridge of his nose. His head hurt.

"Yes, I swear. I would never do anything to hurt her, or jeopardize her relationship with Eric. I….care too much about her." Wilson grew quiet and House looked him in the eyes.

"Do you still have feelings for her?" He asked quietly.

"No, not like that. I mean, I still care about her deeply. And she can kiss you until you forget your own name. But I'm not in love with her. And I know she's not in love with me. She was just scared and lonely and needed something to keep her from sinking." Wilson felt the awkward silence between them. He wasn't just talking to his best friend about a woman anymore. He was talking, in essence, to the woman's father.

House let out his own long sigh. "Just don't get careless and do it again, okay? She should be waking up about now. Come on."

XXXXX

Angel was still a bit disoriented when they got to her room, but she smiled a little when she saw House. "What happened?" Her throat felt like she'd been swallowing glass.

House sat next to her bed. "You had some bleeding ulcers but we took care of that. Unfortunately, any more vomiting and this could keep happening. I know you're on the strongest anti-emetics….." House folded his hands over the top of his cane and paused.

"I know that look, House. You have to tell me something you don't want to. Just spit it out," Angel said, with a ragged sigh.

"We need to let that area rest and the only way we can do that right now is to put you under sedation for a few days, give you some meds to help speed the healing, and then see how you do when you wake up," House delivered this with his usual manner but his eyes looked sad.

Angel clearly hadn't been expecting this. She was still pale from the blood loss, but grew even paler, hands shaking as they did when she was nervous. She looked over at Wilson. "You agree?" He nodded.

"Okay then." Her voice seemed to get smaller. Foreman wrapped his arms around her. Angel looked over his shoulder at Wilson, who wouldn't make eye contact with her.

"You're going to be okay, promise." He kissed her temple; she closed her eyes, smiling briefly as she leaned into his kiss. "We'll have plenty of monitors so we know what's going on. Just think of it as a well-deserved long nap." She gave him the best smile she could manage, even though she felt guilty.

After attaching what felt like the 50th electrode onto her body, House said they were ready. She gave him a long hug and kiss on the cheek. Awkwardly she squeezed Wilson's hand. But Foreman—she kissed him hard and started to cry with her arms around him. He stroked her forehead and held her hand as they had her count backwards. Before she'd even recited three numbers, she was out completely.

XXXXX

Chase came in to check on her later that day; he gave an awkward glance Foreman's way. "Chase, what?" Chase simply shook his head.

"You really care for her, don't you?" He paused filling in her chart.

"I love her. I can't wait until this nightmare is behind us. Something going on?" Chase lowered his eyes and shook his head again, leaving Foreman confused. He followed him out of Angel's room.

"Chase, there's something you're not telling me. Is Angel okay?" His eyes were filled with worry.

"Yeah, she's okay. Sorry, didn't mean to worry you." He tried to leave but his vague answers were irritating Foreman.

"Then what is it? Trouble with Remy?" Chase felt his cheeks flush.

"Just let it go, man." Foreman grabbed his arm tighter. He looked him dead in the eyes. They had never been friends; it wasn't hard to spark an argument. "Do you trust her?"

Foreman's jaw clenched. "What the hell kind of question is that? You got something to say about Angel?" Hadley walked over, hearing the tension in their voices.

"Robert," she said quietly, with a hint of warning. Foreman now looked like he was going to throw a punch and Chase caved.

"You better talk to Wilson," was all Chase could say before he pulled his arm away and quickly rushed off, Hadley looking angry at her boyfriend, flashing a look of compassion Foreman's way.

XXXXX

Foreman walked into Wilson's office, startling Wilson and House. "What's going on with Angel?" Foreman asked loudly. Wilson look alarmed; House felt his body tense up and got a grip on his cane.

"She was fine the last time I checked…" Wilson answered slowly, thinking that Foreman was concerned with her health until he saw the glare in his eyes.

"That's not what I'm talking about. What's going on that I don't know about? Because Chase certainly thinks something is going on and said to talk to you." Foreman took a step towards Wilson's desk. Nervously, Wilson stood, holding up a hand. Before he could speak, House began to step between them.

"House," Wilson warned, "Don't. I need to handle this." House remained standing, muttering a curse at Chase.

"Now, Foreman, you have to understand, Angel was very upset. I was just comforting her and…." Wilson swallowed hard. "I kissed her. Chase saw us."

"You what?" Foreman lunged at the desk, stopped only by House's cane which came in contact with his knee. Foreman buckled, staggered back, and grabbed a chair. "I trusted you! Son of a bitch!" He growled, partly towards Wilson, partly at the pain in his leg.

"Get out. You should be with Angel, not starting a brawl. Try to hurt Wilson and you'll be out of a job, I don't care how much Angel loves you," House hissed, swinging his cane slowly.

Foreman exchanged ugly looks with House and Wilson again before limping out. Wilson sank into his chair with a loud sigh, covering his face. House sat again, looking annoyed at Wilson. Neither spoke for a while.

XXXXX

Hadley was alarmed when she saw Foreman come down to the clinic, angry and obviously in pain. She ushered him into an exam room where he sat on the table. "What happened?"

"House's damn cane is what happened! I wasn't going to hurt Wilson, I was just mad that he made a move on Angel!" He rolled his eyes when Hadley told him to take his pants off so she could examine his knee.

"Maybe you should wait until Angel's awake to get her side of the story before you start swinging at people," Hadley said quietly as she palpitated his knee. There was already a bruise but she was sure it was just that; House knew how much force to use with his cane without causing damage.

Foreman hissed in pain, then glared at Hadley. "You know, you're the second person to question Angel's part in this. Wilson didn't say anything of the sort. Angel would never…" He looked into Hadley's eyes and grew quiet.

Hadley finished wrapping his knee. "Eric, don't let your pride screw this up. You learned that the hard way with me. You both love each other. Just remember that." Foreman didn't say anything. He took the ice pack she handed him, and headed back to Angel's room.

Looking at her, so ill, under sedation, with far too many tubes and wires, he felt a sharp pang in his heart. He did love her. But if she'd kissed Wilson…She'd be under for another day. He sat in the recliner, balancing the ice on his knee. He'd have to wait for more answers before he could even decide how he felt about the whole thing.

In the meantime, there were plenty of glares, heated silence, and blunt conversations amongst the team. If Angel was aware of any of this under sedation, none of her monitors gave any indication.


	17. Chapter 17

Tempers were still flaring when the decision was made to bring Angel out of sedation. She was dazed, her head feeling fuzzy when faces started coming into view. House smiled and gave her a nod, but Wilson seemed oddly distant as he jotted down things in her chart. Foreman stood on the other side of her bed looking at her as though she were any other patient.

"What's going on?" she asked weakly, momentarily forgetting the previous days.

"We'll let you two be alone," House said, leaving with Wilson. Foreman sat down next to her.

She reached for his hand and grasped it, but he didn't return the squeeze. "Eric? What….?" And then she remembered. _He must know_. "I'm so sorry, Eric, please understand…."

"I can't believe Wilson kissed you! He took advantage of your feelings. I—" Angel stopped him.

"Eric…." She began with a whisper. "I kissed him back. This wasn't all his fault. Please…I love you," she begged, as he pulled his hand away and began to pace the room.

He stopped at the foot of her bed, staring at her. She felt like she was slinking down and began to shake. "Do you love him? Do you want to break up?"

"No! I swear, Eric, it was a mistake! I know it's a terrible excuse but I was upset," she said, her voice trembling. She was losing him. Just like the nightmares said she would. The room started spinning, and spots began to cloud her view. The next thing she knew, Foreman was lowering the head of her bed and putting on an oxygen mask, and injecting something into her IV. She could hear monitors beeping and realized they were hers.

Nurses filled the room, but Foreman assured them he had it under control. "Easy Angel, easy. Just breathe, don't talk right now." She felt so sleepy but heard Wilson and House come in, each adding their voices to the noise in the room. She heard the alarms go off again, and House barking some kind of order. Soon it was quiet and she felt like she could breathe again. Angel felt a warm hand on hers.

"Just relax Angel. He'll come to his senses. He's stubborn but not stupid. He loves you and he's not about to throw that all away." House's soothing voice made her sleepier still; she realized they must have given her more sedatives. "Rest, Mo Chuisle. It will all be okay."

XXXXX

"Are you two complete morons? Are you trying to kill her before the cancer can?" House glared angrily at Wilson and Foreman who were seated in the otherwise empty conference room.

"You—judging from the number of nights you don't come home, you and Nora are doing just fine," House said to Wilson. "So you shouldn't worry that he's trying to steal your woman," he growled at Foreman. "And were you trying to stress her into a heart attack? It was one damn kiss. Since when does Chase look out for you? He was trying to get your goat as usual, only Angel got pulled into it. He's doing my clinic duties for the next two weeks." House paused, letting the severity of their actions sink in.

"Get over it, both of you. Now obviously, she's been feeling more distressed and we all could do our parts in keeping her relaxed. But you," he pointed to Wilson, "keep your lips off. And you, pay more attention to her," he chastised Foreman. "Any questions?" The men shook their heads and left the room quietly, giving each other apologetic looks.

_Damn_, House thought, this fathering thing really wore him out sometimes.

XXXXX

Angel woke up feeling a hand on hers; she smiled in relief when she found it was Foreman's. He leaned over and kissed her gently. "Baby, I'm so sorry I acted like an ass. I love you and I know you love me. Forgive me?"

Angel's lip quivered. "Oh Eric, I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness." She hugged him tightly, which to Foreman felt increasingly weak. House was right. She needed love, not stress. Her body couldn't handle much more.

"Nothing to forgive, Angel. I know you still have feelings for Wilson, and he's your best friend. I can live with that. I need to, because I want you in my life." He kissed her again, tenderly stroking her cheek.

After getting her settled for the evening, Foreman headed to his car. "Eric!" He heard a female call his name and turned.

"Cameron! Hey, what are you doing back here?" He grinned from ear to ear and gave her a warm embrace.

Dr. Allison Cameron-Chase looked downward for a moment before giving him a wistful smile. "Getting Robert to sign the last of the divorce papers."

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" He put his hand on her arm.

She sighed and looked up at the hospital. "I'm….adjusting. I miss working here but it was just too hard, the idea of running into him."

"Hey, I was just heading home, why don't you come for some dinner, we'll catch up," he offered kindly. Cameron had always been so cheerful and optimistic; he felt bad that Chase had hurt her like this by lying to her over the Dibala case.

"Sure, why not?" Foreman gave her directions and met her at the apartment.

XXXXX

_He was coming closer until her back was against the wall. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Others came behind him; she knew there was no escape. When she fell to the ground, her hand felt cold metal: a gun. It was her only chance and she took it, firing at will. Suddenly she could see the faces and her blood ran cold. Foreman, House and Wilson were dead. Her other friends, mortally wounded. There was one bullet left as she put the gun to her head…._

Angel screamed as she sat up. A nurse came in, concerned. Angel told her it was the pain and got another dose of meds. It numbed her feelings but didn't erase the horrible vision from her mind. As soon as the nurse left, Angel picked up the phone to call Foreman.

"Hello?" A woman's voice answered. Angel was sure she'd misdialed until she heard Foreman's voice in the background.

"Who is it?" She could hear him asking, and the sound of a few pots rattling around. He was cooking dinner.

"Hello? There's no one there," the woman said to Foreman. Angel's voice caught in her throat and she quickly hung up.

Angel's heart pounded; in the silence of the room she could almost hear it. Mercifully the meds kicked in and she fell back into a dreamless sleep.

XXXXX

Foreman greeted her the next morning with a slight frown on his face. "Bad night last night? Saw your charts. " He rubbed her hand.

"I'm okay now. How about you? Okay night?" She managed a small smile.

"Yeah, was tired, just went home, dinner, bed. Nothing special." Not even a flicker in his eyes conveyed the lie. Her heart gave a thud. She gave him a kiss before he went off to the conference room, then felt a knot of pain in her chest. Was this payback for Wilson?

Angel's look of despair flattened out when House and Wilson entered. Wilson saw her chart and frowned. "Your pain was that bad last night? Hmm. We could switch it, but it would probably make you sleepier."

"I think it was just a fluke and I overdid it yesterday. I'm already sleeping a lot."

"Okay then, just let me know." Wilson sat beside her. A wave of doom swept over her.

"You have that look, James." She also glanced up to House.

"I….got your latest blood work results. Now," he held up a hand to try to keep her calm. "The chemo is working, the cancer isn't coming back. But…..your numbers aren't as good as I'd hoped. So you need to make a decision. We can do another round of chemo, or just go as planned with the transplant." Cautiously he took her hand.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tight. Another month. The very thought made her want to throw up. "Give me the pros and cons," she said quietly, trying to ease her breathing.

"You could do another month and it would make sure the chemo has done the trick. However, as sick as you've been….you might become too ill to even perform the transplant. And there's no guarantee your numbers will improve with another month." He glanced over at House, who looked grim.

"I could die, just from the chemo." She finally opened her eyes. They looked dull, resigned to Wilson.

"Yes." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "If you choose to go as scheduled, the cancer might not be completely gone, or it might come back. If it does come back, it will be harder to treat."

"What do I do?" She felt too stunned to cry and looked at both of them. House looked tired, as did Wilson. She supposed they might have been up discussing this.

Wilson's eyes fell as he shook his head. "I….I don't know."

Angel looked up at House, pleading in her eyes. He too shook his head. "It's your call."

Angel's emotions came to a head. "You're my doctors! You're supposed to help me! I don't know what to do, but I don't want to die!" Her cries became hysterical, and she pushed their hands away. "If you're not going to help me, why bother being here?"

Her breathing became labored; once more they administered oxygen and sedatives. The pneumonia had taken such a toll on her lungs that any stress caused her O2 sats to plummet. She struggled to keep her eyes open, especially when Foreman came in. Angel tried to ask him about the woman, but her words slurred. He kissed her gently on the head and told her to rest. She couldn't fight it long, and finally rested.

When she came to, only House was there, looking at her pensively over the top of his cane. "Okay, spill. What's really going on today? And don't tell me pain. You said 'who is she' to Foreman."

Angel squirmed into her blanket and looked away. "I….called the apartment last night. A woman answered and it wasn't Remy." She saw him look angry for a moment then a moment of clarity.

"Cameron. Dr. Cameron, used to work for me. She's back, for a few days anyway. I think she mentioned she'd had dinner with him. Completely harmless. She's here getting her divorce finalized from Chase."

"But…why did he lie to me? Payback for kissing James?" House mulled it over.

"I don't think so. But you should ask him. Because he's about to come in with Cameron right now." House stood, nodded at Cameron and walked out with a wink to Angel.

Angel saw the wistful look Cameron gave towards House's disappearing back before she turned with a smile towards Angel. "Hi, I'm Dr. Cameron. Allison. It's so nice to meet you. I have to admit I was shocked to hear that Foreman was in such a serious relationship but I'm happy for you both."

She sounded sincere….and the way she looked at House….maybe it was nothing but it was still eating her up. "Thanks. It's nice to finally meet you." At least she could be gracious.

"Your apartment is beautiful. I know it must be rough being here, but Dr. Wilson is the best. The whole team is. You're in good hands," Cameron said, warmly touching her hand. Angel looked into her eyes and saw the kindness behind the words. Of course she saw Foreman cringe when Cameron mentioned the apartment. He knew he was busted.

"Eric mentioned….you have a good relationship with House? I'm sorry if I'm being too personal," she said with a blush. Angel could sense the hurt left from unrequited love.

"Not at all, actually, House is like a father to me. I don't have any family. My parents died years ago, and my son died when he was 3. I started working for House, and one thing led to another, and," Angel laughed," here we are. I know it sounds crazy to anyone who really knows him." Cameron laughed too.

"Everyone deserves family. I have some relatives but….my first husband died not long after we married. So I understand the need to make your own family. House is a good man." Cameron's eyes got a little misty.

"Yes he is," Angel said, squeezing her hand. "Are you going to be in town long? I hope you'll come visit more when I'm feeling better."

"You've got a deal," Cameron said sweetly. "I have to go right now though." She hugged Angel and Foreman. She never would have matched the two together, but Angel had won her over. But how she'd managed to charm House….Cameron sighed as she left.

Foreman turned to Angel who raised her eyebrow, mouth set in a slight frown. "Why did you lie to me Eric? Is it because I kissed James?"

He looked remorseful. "No, not at all. She was really down about her divorce, I wanted to show her the apartment and tell her all about you, catch up…..wait, that was you who called, wasn't it? Why didn't you say so?"

Angel looked away. "It was nothing important. I…didn't want to interrupt. But when you didn't tell me this morning, I got scared." Foreman hugged her tight.

"Just two colleagues catching up, I swear. I just didn't want you feeling left out. I know how badly you want to be home. There's nothing between us, never has been. She's had a thing for House forever. Why she hooked up with Chase, I'll never know." He was glad to see Angel smiling a little again.

"Wilson told me about your latest numbers. Have you made a decision?" His eyes held the same worry and fears that hers did.

"I was going to go tell House myself now. I…..can't. No more. I'm sorry Eric," a sob choked her voice as her head dropped.

He tenderly took her chin and raised it. "Don't apologize. You have been fighting and if you feel this is right, then you do it. I'm behind you all the way baby." He kissed her lips softly. "Want me to go with you?"

"No. I need to do this. See you later?"

She got to House's office where he and Wilson were standing out on the balcony. It was cold but the sun was bright. Both men looked concerned and in a strong discussion; Angel couldn't help but overhear them.

"Even Stacy thinks I'm crazy! I'm just too old to do this parenting thing. I never should have said anything. I….was just scared and saying what she wanted to hear." House rubbed his forehead.

Angel stood in shock, her hand holding the cane beginning to shake.

"House, this latest bit is a shock to all of us. You're just scared of losing her. We all are. But you're doing a great job. I don't think she'd be doing half as well without you, and I don't mean as her doctor." Wilson patted his shoulder. As he turned his face fell, seeing Angel, who began a hasty retreat to her room, tears flooding her vision.

"Angel! Wait!" shouted House. He caught up and took her free arm in his strong hand. She couldn't look at him, she was crying so hard. "Please, listen. All that back there….I always knew the responsibility of being a doctor, how heavy it was. It's got nothing on being your father. And I don't mean that in a bad way. I….just don't want to screw up and hurt you," he ended softly. "When you asked me what you should do, I didn't know. That's not me, normally. I make life-changing decisions every day and can live with them, even sleep most of the time. But here, if I screw up, I lose you. And I can't live with that."

Angel looked up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and moist. His hand was shaking too. Slowly she sunk against him, their ragged breathing almost in synch. He wrapped his arm around her, gently kissed the top of her head.

"You're not going to do the extra chemo are you." He said it. It wasn't a question, he could just tell.

She looked back at him and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Oh hush. Don't apologize. This has been hell on you. You're entitled to say enough. And your prognosis is still excellent. C'mon let's get you back to your room." House walked all the way back with her, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, not giving a damn what it did to his reputation. He was a dad. He couldn't worry about silly things like that right now.


	18. Chapter 18

With the decision to move forward with the marrow transplant, Angel almost felt like her body was giving her a huge sigh of relief—no more chemo. She still felt sick and weak, had gone back to vomiting some even though she was getting nutrient IV. But it didn't seem like an endless wait anymore. Still more than a month until she might be able to go home, get back to work, heck, go for a walk outside, but that dark cloud seemed to lift a little.

Being in the hospital week after week, she lost track of time, could only gauge the season through her closed window. But she was not caught unawares for Valentine's Day. The nurse's station had put up crepe paper decorations on the first of the month, and that's when Angel had hit the internet to find the perfect gift, which came just in time. The big day was tomorrow.

By the way Foreman appeared, she almost worried he'd forgotten. But when one of the nurses teased him, he got a glimmer in his eye that made her giddy. Even House had a smile on his face. She grilled him until he confessed he was going out to dinner with Stacy.

"Wait a minute, isn't she the one—"

"Yes. We're past that. And before you ask, she's now divorced." House didn't seem to be doing back flips but there was a light in his eyes she hadn't seen before. Wilson had once told her Stacy was his one true love, the one that got away, but maybe…..

As though reading her mind, "It's mostly business. Don't believe the rumor mill. I'm not bringing you a mommy for Valentine's Day," he joked, then look chagrined. "Angel, I'm sorry, that came out all wrong."

Angel took his hand, kissed it. "It's okay. I know what you meant. Just make sure to have some fun with that business." Angel winked at him.

Wilson got even more ribbing when they learned he was taking Nora to an expensive French restaurant. "And I haven't even gotten to meet her yet," Angel pretended to pout. Wilson blushed a deep red.

"Soon, I promise. You two would actually get along, you've got a lot in common. You both love reading, musicals, opera—"

"Having sex with Wilson," House interjected, making everyone laugh and blush. Angel had to swat him for that.

Angel sighed with a smile. "You both have fun for me. Hey, do they make that IV come in chocolate or champagne? No? Shucks," she laughed lightly. She had to admit to herself she was jealous that everyone else was able to go out to celebrate. She'd be happy being at home, having Foreman cook for her. _Next year,_ she thought_. It will all be different next year._

XXXXX

Angel had wanted to be her best for their first Valentine's Day, so she let Wilson give her extra pain meds and a sedative the night before. He must have given her the good stuff, she wondered as she opened her eyes. Her hospital room had been transformed into a virtual Valentine's Day party.

Paper hearts of pink and red hung everywhere, while pink and white twinkle lights hung from the ceiling. A bouquet of roses sat next to her bedside, the fragrance bringing back fond memories of the Inn. "Those are some very quiet Cupids who decorated in here," she said, grinning from ear to ear at Foreman.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love," he said, kissing her cheeks softly and slowly, then moving to her lips. Her arms wrapped around him and tugged him into the bed with her. A nurse walked in, at first surprised, then she closed the privacy blinds and turned off the lights, so they snuggled in the glow of the lights around the room.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Eric. Once more, you surprise me," she said, letting out a happy sigh and resuming her affection for him, nibbling on his earlobe.

"So…do you want to save gifts for later or…?" Foreman chuckled as she let out an excited squeal. "Okay okay, hang on," he kissed her forehead after climbing out of the bed. He paused and smiled.

"What?" She blushed, the way he was looking at her….

"Your hair, it's growing back," he replied, giving her another soft, gentle kiss. "Soft as peach fuzz."

Her fingers cautiously reached up and soon her grin matched his. "What color is it?"

"Pale blonde brown, beautiful." She blushed again.

"If you hand me that box over there…" she motioned to a wrapped box on her desk. Foreman sat at the foot of her bed. "You first," Angel said, excited.

Foreman slowly unwrapped the small gift. "Oh baby, you shouldn't have!" Already he was opening the box for a fancy MP3 player.

"Well… I did throw up on your old one. And this one you can take pictures, so when I'm all better, maybe I'll let you put a few on it," she purred with a wink. He laughed.

"Sweetheart, thank you, I love it," Foreman gave her a long kiss, stroking her tongue with his. "I hope you like your gift." He pulled a small pink box from his coat pocket.

Angel's breath quickened as she gently bit her lip. Her fingers trembled a tiny bit as she pulled off the ribbon. In the box was a white gold Claddaugh ring encrusted with diamonds and a pink sapphire. "Oh Eric," she whispered, looking up at him, eyes filling with tears.

Foreman smiled, his eyes meeting hers. "You have a choice to make….Angel, I want to marry you. But I'm willing to wait, however long you need. So this can be a promise ring, or I can get down on my knee and it can be an engagement ring."

Angel smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek, as she reached out and brushed his cheek softly with her fingers. "Eric, I never knew I could love someone so much. But….I need more time. I promise my heart is yours." She looked at him, expecting to see disappointment. Instead, he took her right hand, and with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye, he slipped the ring on her finger, then leaned over for another kiss, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

"I love you Angel Hoffman, and I promise that someday I will make you my wife," he murmured, kissing her hand.

Angel couldn't get over looking at it sparkling on her hand, and hugged him tight. "Get back here, you," she said, gingerly standing. "I put a few songs on your player for today. I miss dancing with you," Angel said, ducking her head, shyly.

Foreman docked the player. "I heard this song and it made me think of us," she said, wrapping her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest. Together they swayed gently to Rascal Flat's _Sarabeth;_ tears trickled down her cheeks as the song began about a girl diagnosed with cancer,

_Sarabeth is scared to death as she sits holding her mom_

_Because it would be a mistake for someone to take_

_A girl with no hair to the prom…_

Suddenly, Angel let out a little cry and slumped down. Alarmed, Foreman took her arm. She looked up at him, looking sad and defeated. "It…it's just the pain. And I'm tired. I just wanted this one dance," she sniffled.

Foreman smiled at her sweetly, had her wrap her arms around his neck, and picked her up, dancing with her in his strong arms. She kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder.

…_The boy's at the door, and her daddy ushers him in_

_When he takes off his cap they all start to cry_

_Because this morning where his hair had been_

_Softly she touches just skin._

_They go dancing, around and around without any cares_

_And her very first true love is holding her close_

_And for a moment, she isn't scared._

XXXXX

By that evening, Angel was writhing in pain, pale skin glistening with beads of sweat. Foreman had sat, quietly, while she had dozed on and off, but when she let out a sharp cry, he leapt to his feet. "That's it. I'm calling House and Wilson." He began to page them.

"Eric, no, please, I don't want to ruin their dates," she replied weakly, breathing labored.

It wasn't long before both entered, House accompanied by a woman that Angel guessed correctly was Stacy. "You two clean up nice," she said, commenting on their suits. Angel tried to smile but all that appeared on her face was a pained grimace.

"How bad's the pain?" House asked softly, coming to her side while Wilson read over her chart.

"It's….pain," Angel tried to respond lightly but she knew he could see it in her eyes.

House sighed deeply. "Look, I know you wanted to spend the evening with your man, but…the pain needs to be treated. You'd be too miserable to do anything anyway." Angel echoed his sigh but didn't protest. She stretched out her fingers and he reached up to hold her hand. Wilson left to get the medication.

"Hey, this is new," House said, fingering the ring on her hand, raising an eyebrow, and glancing over at Foreman. Angel managed a weak blush.

"It's a promise ring from Eric. When I'm well enough, we'll get engaged," she finished with a heartier grin. "Oh and hey, feel my head."

House tilted his head, questioning, until he did so. A smile spread across his face. "You've got hair. My little girl's growing up," House said, adding a mock sniffle.

"Cheeky," Angel said, giving his hand a squeeze. He lifted her hand, kissing it.

"Congrats. By the way this is Stacy," House said with a nod in her direction.

"Hello, I wish this were under better circumstances," Angel said a bit shyly.

"Greg's told me a lot about you. I hope you're feeling better very soon," Stacy said softly with a kind smile on her face. Wilson came back in with a vial and syringe.

"Okay this is the good stuff, you should sleep well tonight. Eric, if she's having any problems, don't hesitate to page me." Angel put her hand up before he inserted the drug into her PICC line.

"Take a rose, each of you for your dates, tell them thanks for letting me borrow you," she said, cringing a bit more from the pain. Wilson kissed the top of her head, House leaned down so Angel could kiss his cheek. He seemed a bit shy in front of Stacy, but Angel could see the effect it had on her.

Foreman came to hold her hand while the medicine worked quickly. Angel let out a happy sigh of relief, a small smile on her lips. As she faded out of consciousness, Foreman kissed her gently; Angel emitted one last happy purr before falling asleep.

"Thank you, House, Wilson. She tries to tough it out too much. Have a good evening," he said, eyes not moving from her face, still holding her hand.

Wilson left in one direction, House and Stacy in another. Stacy put her hand on House's arm gently and they stopped walking. She looked up at him with a smile. "I get it now. I'll have the papers ready by tomorrow."

In response, House leaned down, put his arm around her and kissed her deeply.


	19. Chapter 19

"Good morning, sleepyhead," House murmured as Angel opened her eyes. "I guess I should say 'good afternoon' but it just doesn't have the same ring to it."

Angel gave a low chuckle as she stretched a bit. "The pain is better. You have a good evening with Stacy?" She had an impish grin as she met his eyes.

"Yep. Though some was business." House toyed with his cane, his eyes twinkling, matching her smile.

"And James…did he come home last night?" Angel leaned up on one elbow.

"Mmm, don't know." House glanced down for a moment, bashful, then his eyes darted back up to hers. Her grin was infectious.

"House!" Angel giggled. "Way to go," she said as the two exchanged high fives.

"Aren't kids supposed to say 'ooh gross' or something?" House smiled in spite of himself.

"I'm happy for you," she replied, her face more serious. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"What? Pain bothering you?" House knitted his eyebrows together.

"No, I just…." Angel let out another ragged sigh. "I miss home. I miss my bed. Eric's bringing home the cat soon. I miss him." She wiped at her eyes quickly. "I'm sorry House, I don't mean to complain."

"Shush. You've been here a long time. Anyone would be homesick. Though maybe I have something to cheer you up," House said, taking her hand. Angel looked at him curiously.

"Stacy wasn't just here to see me, she was here for legal reasons," House began.

"House, are you in some kind of legal trouble?" Angel took in a sharp breath.

"No! Why does everyone assume that?" He took a look at Angel, her head cocked with a knowing look. "Okay so I do have a history. But nevermind that. Actions speak louder than words. And I realized that I didn't want you to just be someone I'm close to. I….wanted to make it legal." House began to fidget with his cane, nerves building in his stomach.

"I'm…not sure I understand," Angel said, unsure where this was leading.

"I don't just want you to be my daughter in name only. I want to make it legal. Stacy is drawing up the papers so I can adopt you." If he hadn't been so anxious, he would have laughed at the look on Angel's face—that of disbelief and shock.

"You…you can do that? Adopt an adult? And you really want me?" Her voice grew soft and trembled.

"Yes, Mo Chuisle. You and I have been alone for far too long. It's time we had each other as family." He was startled by her sudden movement to wrap her arms around him as she burst into tears. House let out a soft chuckle as he rubbed her back, dried her eyes.

"But…what if something happens during the transplant? James told me…." Angel swallowed a huge lump in her throat. "He told me that 30% of patients don't make it. I don't want to hurt you or Eric." She looked at him with desperate eyes. "I don't know I deserve that risk to you both."

House took her shoulders gently in his large hands. "You deserve this, a family to love you. And your odds are still good. Angel, if you'd known you'd only have Connor for a short time, would you have wanted him anyway?"

House could see his words had made a strong impact. She nodded, wordless. "That's how I feel and I'm sure that's how Foreman feels. We want you, for however long we have you."

XXXXX

House was whistling as he entered the clinic, garnering odd looks from the nurses. House in a good mood in the clinic was quite the anomaly. Stacy was back in his life, he was soon going to be a father, life was good.

Until he saw Cuddy.

If her bright, animated expression and gestures didn't speak volumes, then her giddy voice, higher pitched and louder than normal told House something was up. Something big. He tried to dodge, but it was too late. She'd already seen him and was heading his way.

"House! I'm surprised to find you in the clinic so early. Stacy end the evening early?" She regretted it as soon as it crossed her lips.

"Nope. Unless you consider the two of us getting to bed before midnight. And I don't mean sleep," he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Well, great for you two. Everyone should be as happy as Lucas and I." At this point she held out her left hand, and while House's grin didn't slip, he got a knot in his stomach. "Lucas proposed last night."

"Huh. Well…considering I just hired Lucas for a big job, technically I paid for the bling. So everytime you look at it, you can think of me," House quipped, giving her a haughty wink. Her smile tightened, and she lowered her hand. "Congrats, Cuddy." House wheeled around, tossed a clinic chart onto the counter, and headed for his office.

XXXXX

"_He's not your father. I am! Say it!" She couldn't see his face, but his voice was menacing and he gripped House's collar in one hand, bat in the other._

"_No! I love him! You did nothing but hurt me!" She looked into House's eyes, brave, unwavering._

_The man swung the bat and it made sickening contact with House's bad leg. House screamed, lurching over in pain, but the man held tight and kept him from falling. Angel screamed as well, begging him to stop._

"_Say it, then! Say I'm your father!" Angel tried to speak, tried to move, and couldn't, so he swung the bat again, beating House's other leg that made a crunch, causing House to vomit._

"House!" Angel screamed, sitting upright. She panted, a sick feeling in her stomach, and she quickly threw up, despite realizing it was a nightmare. She staggered to the bathroom, and wiped the sweat off her face and the tears from her eyes.

She quickly grabbed her cane and headed for House's office. She knew he was okay but she wouldn't stop shaking until she saw him.

As she looked through his door, he appeared to be brooding; pain, or a case, she supposed, until she saw him pour a good amount of bourbon into his red mug. Without knocking she entered. He swiveled to look at her. His face showed little expression. "Where's your damn mask?" There was a low rumble in his voice.

"I…I forgot it." Cautiously she asked, "House, what's wrong?"

Silently he took a long sip. Without making eye contact, he asked with a gravely tone, "What makes you think something is wrong?"

"Most people wait until after noon to start drinking the hard stuff," she said calmly, sitting across from him at his desk.

"Care to join me?" He ignored her concern as he topped off his mug.

"No thanks. I've already thrown up enough today. Please, stop deflecting. What's wrong?" She reached out for his hand, but he moved it.

"Didn't you hear? Cuddy's engaged to Lucas." While his facial expression didn't change, she saw the pain in his eyes.

"House, I….I'm sorry." She was at a loss for what else to say, but needed to say something. "What about Stacy?"

He shrugged. "She dropped off the papers a little bit ago. She declined a drink as well," he said, this time with a slight edge of sarcasm to his voice. "If you're ready to sign them—"

"No, not right now," Angel said softly. "House, this is one of the most incredible things to happen to me, and I'd like both of us to….remember it happily."

House leaned across the desk, where she could smell the strong alcohol on his breath. "If you've changed your mind, fine with me." His eyes sharpened. She felt herself leaning back, involuntarily.

"No, House, not at all. But you need to deal with this. Talk to Dr. Nolan. I know Cuddy has been such a long part of your past, but with Stacy back and—"

House cut her off. "Right. Deal with my past. This coming from the person who blocked out 10 years of her past," he snarled. He got up and came around; Angel stood as well, her hand shaking while she held her cane.

"I don't give a crap about Cuddy!" he barked, slamming his hand onto the desk. Angel flinched, closing her eyes for a moment.

"What, are you afraid I'm going to hurt you now?" His voice has lowered but there was still an angry edge to it.

Nervously, she shook her head. "No House. I know you'd never hurt me. But it does pain me to see you like this. I'll give you some space. You know where to find me." She briefly touched his hand, her heart hurting that there was no response on his part. She turned and left.

The grief hit her on the way back to her room. She slunk onto a bench and tried not to begin sobbing, not out in the open where anyone could see her. Angel covered her face with her hands, her entire body quivering.

"Angel, are you okay?" A hand touched her shoulder. It was Cuddy.

Angel stood up, angry tears in her eyes. "Stay away from House!" she hissed, causing Cuddy to take a step backwards, face shocked.

"I beg your pardon? Just who do you think—" Cuddy spat.

"Haven't you hurt him enough? Why don't you take your fiancé and your daughter and go take a trip, celebrate your engagement, just give him space right now." Angel didn't hate Cuddy but she hated the games this woman had played with House's heart.

"And just who are you to tell me what to do?" Cuddy glared at her.

"Soon, I'll be House's legally adopted daughter. You hurt him, you answer to me," Angel growled, then stalked off to her room, where she sank into the bed, exhausted, shaking, in pain of all types.

XXXXX

When Wilson and Foreman asked, she chalked up her quiet demeanor to being exhausted and in pain. If they suspected otherwise, they didn't say, though both tried to raise her spirits.

When Foreman wheeled a large cart into her room, it was enough to pique Angel's interest, though she was afraid it just meant more tests. Instead, he locked the door, drew the blinds and uncovered the lower shelf. For the first time in a few days, her face lit up as she heard the soft mewling coming from the cat carrier underneath.

"Emma!" she squealed. Foreman drew her out and handed the furry bundle to Angel's eager outstretched hands. The kitten began to purr loudly and immediately curled up into her arms. "Just like her mama," Angel giggled, as the little pink tongue caressed her hand. The furry heart on her chest hadn't faded with growth, and Angel traced it with the tip of her finger. She kissed Emma on the top of her head and gave Foreman a giant grin.

"Thank you so much for bringing her," Angel murmured, reaching up to kiss Foreman gently.

"I had a feeling you needed to get acquainted. She's definitely attached to you," he said, noting the kitten had dozed off, completely content in her lap. "Emma loves the apartment, acts like queen of the castle," he chuckled. Angel's smile waned a bit. "You'll join us soon, baby."

All too soon, Emma woke up and started mewling louder—she was hungry and not afraid to speak her mind. Angel gave her kisses, a few tears forming. Foreman gave her a kiss before tucking Emma back into her carrier and prepared to sneak her back out of the hospital.

Alone once more, Angel sank back into her pillow, her good mood fading like the daylight. The hospital grew more quiet. She looked towards the door when she heard the familiar sound of a cane tapping the floor. Sure enough, it was House. She propped herself up, a faint smile on her face. He paused, looked at her, no smile, no frown. He lowered his head, turned, and left without a word.

It felt like hours before Angel could take a breath again, and even then it hurt like hell. She paged the nurse for meds, just to numb the pain in her heart. It took hold quickly but not before she shed more tears.

XXXXX

Wilson's concern for Angel finally took him to House's office. "House, what's going on? Did you and Angel have a fight?"

"Nope. Life's just dandy," House said glibly, tossing his giant tennis ball up into the air.

"You haven't been to see her in days and she's…..not doing well." Wilson sat, grabbing the ball away to get his attention.

House looked alarmed. "Physically she's fine, House, except for the pain. But….she's depressed, deeply. Barely speaks to me or Foreman. What's going on?"

House looked away, uncomfortable. "You know about Cuddy."

Exasperated, Wilson raised his voice. "This is why you're shutting everyone out? Why you're ignoring Angel right after you tell her you want to adopt her? House, get over it!"

"Oh sure, easy enough for you to say! You've got Nora—"

"And you have, or had, Stacy. I heard she was leaving at the end of the week. Not to mention a daughter who loves you. She actually got in Cuddy's face, upset that her engagement had hurt you. And all you can do is sit and brood in your office, ignoring Angel—" At this, House buried his face in his hands.

Wilson furrowed his brow. "House, what did you say to her?"

House sighed. "I asked her if she wanted to call off the adoption. I…made a comment about her blocking out her memories. I got in her face…I think I scared her." He looked up at Wilson, eyes showing the misery he was holding inside.

"House," Wilson growled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I know. I screwed up, big time. With Angel, with Stacy…." He looked up at the ceiling. "Guess it's time to eat some crow."

"Just don't add any bourbon this time," Wilson advised, his tone calmer. House nodded, grabbed the phone to call Stacy. Wilson smiled and left.


	20. Chapter 20

A small tap on the door startled Angel out of her medicated haze. Her eyes drifted slowly but widened when she saw it was House standing there, looking chagrined. "May I come in?" She nodded, hopeful but afraid to show it.

He approached her bed but didn't sit, instead fidgeting with his cane and shifting weight between feet. He rubbed his forehead with his other hand, not meeting her eyes. "Look, I was an ass. I was upset about Cuddy and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." He finally glanced up at her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, a slight breath of relief escaping her lips.

"You sure you want this, you want me as your father? Because—"

"Yes. House, I want you. You know that," she said, slowly reaching her fingertips towards him. House gazed down at her hand and slowly met hers with his. He carefully wrapped his hand around hers and when they looked at each other both had tears forming.

"You'll be happy to know that I'm going out with Stacy tonight, no business," he said with a faint smile and wink. She nodded and gave him a smile in return. "What about you? Any plans with Dr. Buzzkill?"

"Hey, now, that's my almost fiancé you're talking about. And no, just….hanging out here." She shrugged, trying to look okay but her eyes spoke volumes. House didn't like the look.

"I could cancel and hang out with you," he offered.

"Oh no, you're not calling off this date with Stacy. I'm fine, really. Just bored. Work is starting to sound great," she said with a half-hearted laugh.

"If you really want to do some work….Marcus is busy filing charts, but I've got a stack of mail that needs to be read," House said, thinking this was win-win.

"You mean read and ignored," Angel replied.

"Don't sass your father," he scolded with a grin. "Well?"

"Sure, why not." She squeezed his hand.

"I'll have Marcus bring over the work." House kissed the top of her head. "I'll talk to you later. Set up a time to sign those papers." He gave her a wink before leaving.

Angel smiled as he left, but her mood fell again. Wilson had told her the new pain meds could enhance her depression but it was a side-effect she was willing to tolerate. Still she managed another smile on her face when Marcus came in later with an armful of envelopes and folders from House's desk.

She embraced him, and he studied her ring. "You know, Eric showed it to me the day he bought it. Wanted to know if I thought you'd like it. I told him you'd love it. Congratulations," Marcus said with a smile.

"It will be nice having a brother," she said shyly. He ducked his head.

"Really? You mean that?"

"Yeah, I do. Didn't have any growing up. Eric will be my family, and so will you. Forget that in-law stuff." Angel patted his shoulder.

"Thanks, I'm glad you'll be my sister. You've already looked out for me," he said, putting the work on her desk.

Angel shrugged, "Hey, that's what I'm here for. Have a good weekend," she said before he gave her another hug and left her to her work.

It was hard for her to read the letters from people who wanted House's help. She set some aside, hoping to convince him to take those cases. Most of the conference requests she tossed, knowing he hated going to those things. A larger envelope towards the bottom caught her eye; she let out a startled gasp when she saw her name on it, no address, and the bright 'Confidential' stamped on it.

Angel considered calling House to ask him before opening it, but he didn't want to interrupt his time with Stacy. He _had_ trusted her with the mail, and it did have her name on it. Angel shrugged, and opened it.

A smile spread across her face as she gazed at the top item—a photo of a young girl smiling. "That's me," she whispered, recognizing the eyes immediately. The next photo though, caused her smile to fade, just like the young girl's. She was probably about 8, as some memories started to seep back into her consciousness. The eyes were dark and sad, bruises both fresh and fading on her face, and a healing bloody lip made her heart wrench. Suddenly, like a light bulb flash, she remembered that photo being taken at a hospital after being thrown down the stairs, before her first MRI.

The next paper was a copy of a medical chart from some hospital in New Jersey along with a newspaper article that read 'Girl, 9, saved by dog from freezing to death overnight'. That memory had come back to her, but to read the article made her ill. The medical chart noted mild hypothermia plus locations of bruises. Bruises were found on her upper thighs and this was highlighted; she was confused until she looked at the next page and her face went ashen. A rape kit had been used. The results were positive.

Angel staggered to the bathroom and threw up several times. A dreadful crawling sensation covered her head to toe and she began shaking as she went back to the desk. Part of her wanted to call House, Wilson or Foreman but she was drawn to the rest of the stack. She had to know.

The next set of newspaper articles directly followed the last—she was removed from her home, placed with Mórai, and a custody battle ensued. Angel's breathing quickened as she regained the memories of her grandfather. She smiled, thinking of the wonderful time they shared, the piano lessons he taught her, the beautiful dresses and all the love she could have wanted. She snapped back to present time, wiping a tear from her eye.

The next article broke her heart….her grandfather had won the battle but died as he was on his way to the foster home where she stayed during the trial. He'd had a heart attack.

_She was in her prettiest dress, dancing about the family room as her foster mother laughed. "When will he be here? When?"_

"_Soon, Anna, soon," she said, running her hand gently down the girl's long hair._

_But the light grew dim and still he didn't come. The phone rang and Anna looked at her foster mother expectantly. Her smile was tight and told Anna that her grandfather couldn't come today. Protesting, Anna took a bath—something she was afraid to do unless her foster mom was right outside—and then went to bed after she got a bedtime story._

_The next day, she heard her foster mother crying and got the news about her Mórai. She cried all day and all evening. Nothing her foster mother did could comfort her. The only way she could sleep was curled up with her foster parents._

_In the days that followed there was lots of whispering amongst her foster parents, lawyers, guardians. _

_She remembered hearing her foster mom talking about adopting her, but even that couldn't bring comfort to Anna._

_She was sitting in the front yard, grasping the doll Mórai gave her when her stepfather drove by. At first she was too scared to move, but when she started to run back to the house, he called to her, gently, sweetly, telling her the lie that would change her life. He told her the foster parents had lied in order to keep her. He knew where Mórai was and could take her to him. She willingly crawled into the car and he sped off…._

'Child in midst of custody battle abducted by abusive stepfather' read the next article. By the time she figured he was lying it was too late. They fled with her, constantly on the run to avoid the law. Angel was openly sobbing now as all the memories became crystal clear, the horror of her childhood and teen years before she ran away. She could feel him touching her, violating her. Angel wanted to go and tear the skin off her body to remove the sensation.

There were two last items in the file—one final newspaper article and a CD. The article talked of the death of her mother which had led to the capture of her stepfather, but also the mystery of her own disappearance.

Her mother was dead. The article said she fell onto some broken beer bottles and bled to death. Angel shuddered. The date was only a few days after she'd run away. Had he killed her? She felt a moment of sorrow. She'd been horrible and abusive but Angel still couldn't help but feel a small pang of grief of knowing she truly was an orphan.

Hands shaking, she put the CD into her computer's drive. It was a newscast and there he was. Her stepfather, holding a news conference. He was older, but she recoiled as though the computer was a snake ready to strike. She adjusted the volume.

The newscaster told viewers that Dan Fields, in prison for the neglect and abuse of a child, had just been released on parole. They turned it over to the press conference. Her heart began to pound at the first sound of his voice.

"I've served my time and I fully accept that what I did was wrong. I am deeply concerned with the location of my stepdaughter Anna Hamilton, who vanished right before her mother died. I will not rest until I find her and make sure that she is safe."

Angel slapped at the power button, every inch of her shaking. He'd been released two months ago. Out there, looking for her. "No, no, no, no," she whimpered, shaking her head in disbelief. He was out there. Did he already know where she was? Was he waiting until she was no longer safely in the hospital? What would he do to House or Foreman? She remembered the nightmare of the man beating House…

She pushed her chair away from the desk, scattering papers, the haunting photo of herself staring back at her. She fell onto the floor and vomited again before she could reach the bathroom. Her mind was racing so fast, her heart was pounding, she was covered in sweat. She couldn't let him find her. She knew what he was going to do to her. She'd rather die.

Frantically she dressed. Angel knew she had to get away, far away where he couldn't find her. She stopped for a moment, glancing at the ring on her hand, the bracelet on her wrist. Foreman and House would never stop looking for her. And if they could find her, he could too. She had to protect them, even if it meant her own life. Slowly she slipped off the ring and bracelet and along with the dog tags, left them on her nightstand.

Her head began to pound horribly. She didn't want to call a nurse—they might page House or Wilson or Foreman. She wiped her face and made her way to Foreman's office. It was a good thing the hospital seemed so empty by now—she didn't think she could hide her terror that well. She practically held her breath the whole way until she got into his office and closed the door behind her.

In the quiet of his office, she could hear her heart pounding, her lungs wheezing. She'd freeze up, a memory flooding back into her brain, like vicious lightning strikes. She reached into the cabinet where he kept her dilaudid, but her hands were shaking so hard she dropped both the vial and the syringe. The vial rolled under the couch. Legs feeling weaker by the moment, she knelt down and began to feel underneath. Instead her fingers came into contact with a paper bag.

She retrieved it and a new memory flashed back as she pulled out Foreman's gun.

When Marcus had moved into Foreman's apartment, he'd come to Angel, afraid to keep the gun there since it violated his probation. She promised she'd take care of it, and had stowed it and the bullets in the office until she could figure out a way to dispose of them. With her illness she'd forgotten about it.

A sudden wave of calm swept over her. Slowly, without a tremor, she loaded one bullet into the gun.

XXXXX

Stacy and House had just pulled into the restaurant lot when his phone rang and his pager went off. House groaned and looked with apology at Stacy. Why he was bothering to look he had no clue but something had been nagging at him since he left Angel's room.

It was Cuddy. "What do you want?" He growled.

Stacy watched his face grow pale. "We'll be right there. Stacy we need to get back to the hospital now. It's Angel."

They could see the police lights surrounding the hospital as they drove into the lot. An officer tried to stop them. "I'm her father and her doctor, and this is her lawyer." The cop looked hesitant then waved them in.

House raced into the lobby with Stacy on his heels where they found Cuddy and Foreman plus the team. Everyone looked frantic. "She's on the roof and she has a gun," Cuddy tried to tell him the news calmly but even she was shaking.

"Call off the police dogs. She's not going to hurt anyone else. Foreman! Any idea what might have set her off?" Foreman shook his head, his features lined with worry. They headed up to her room on their way to the roof.

"Shit," House hissed, taking one look at the filed on her desk. Lucas had said they were brutal. He didn't stop to read anything but saw her ring and bracelet. His stomach lurched again as he saw the vomit all over the bathroom floor.

House urged Stacy to stay there, try to call off the cops. Hadley wouldn't listen to Chase and followed the rest to the roof where they saw Angel staring off into the horizon, tears streaming down her face.

"Angel, stop," House called carefully. Slowly she turned and they could see her holding the gun to her temple. "Please, Mo Chuisle, talk to me, what's going on?"

"House, he's out of jail, he'll find me, he'll hurt you. I can't let him do that," she said, her voice wavering.

"Angel, who? Please baby, put down the gun," Foreman begged.

"My stepfather….I saw the file….all my memories are back, everything, the whole ten years, I'm sorry, this is the only way," Angel cried.

"Angel, please, whatever it is, we'll help you. Please don't hurt yourself. Foreman and I found a co-worker after he killed himself. You think you're solving your pain but you're just going to hurt us, the ones who love you," Hadley urged, grasping onto Taub to keep from falling. She could still feel Kutner's blood on her hands and was trying not to faint.

"I love you all so much, but he'll kill you to get to me, you don't know what he's like," she insisted.

From a bullhorn they heard "Drop the gun or we'll shoot!" House's expression changed to rage as he turned around, trying to find the source.

"Don't shoot! She's not hurting anyone!" He roared. He turned to Taub. "Get Cuddy on the phone and tell her to call them off!" Taub did as he was told, though his hands shook so hard he nearly dropped his phone.

"Angel, why are you so afraid of him? We won't let him—" Foreman looked at her, his heart aching with fear.

"He raped me! For seven years he raped me," she screamed, then broke down into hysterical sobs. "I can still feel him touching me, I can't live like this, I can't," she continued squeezing her eyes shut, holding the gun's muzzle tightly against her skull.

Everyone grew silent at this horrifying news, at the idea of Angel's abuse when she was so young. Finally House spoke up. "Angel, you weren't supposed to see that. Not all at once, not now. Please, let us help you, let Nolan help you. I love you. I need you. Please," House cried, causing Angel to open her eyes and look at him, then Foreman.

"Baby, I swear I will never let anyone hurt you again. I need you too. I don't want to live without you. Please put down the gun," his voice choked up.

Angel's lip trembled, tears still streaming. But slowly, her right arm began to lower, drawing the gun away from her head. The team was holding their breath.

A car in the parking lot backfired, startling a handful of pigeons behind her on the roof. Already tense, she startled, pulling the trigger. Her eyes opened wide with shock as the bullet struck her skull.

"No!" Yelled House and Foreman in terrified unison, while Hadley screamed and buried her face into Taub's chest.

A second shot rang out from behind them and they instinctively ducked, House losing balance and falling to the asphalt. Angel let out a weak cry and staggered, falling onto her back. House crawled to her, cutting up his hands. Blood pooled around her head as he cradled it. Her eyes blinked in fear and she tried to speak, but blood foamed from her mouth as well. "House," she choked.

"Shhh, don't try to talk, just stay with me," he said, watching blood bloom across her chest, and he realized the second shot came from the police sniper behind them.

"You son of a bitch!" House shouted over his shoulder, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood from her head and shoulder.

"I'm….sorry…Mo…"Angel gasped before her eyes rolled back into her head and fluttered shut.

"Mo Chuisle, my blood," House sobbed, looking at the blood on his hands, not able to tell hers from his. He reached for her pulse, put his head to her chest. No pulse. No breath sounds.

"I need a crash cart!" House ordered as he and Foreman began CPR.

To Be Continued...


End file.
